Lost Horse Creek, Montana
by theplanetmary
Summary: Native Sky Series;K/S:IT HAS RETURNED WITH A VENGENCE! Chpt.19 is up: "Wolves." Jim snarled.
1. Chapter 1

**Pre-Spirk/Spirk: Multi-Chapter of the 'Native Sky' Series: Spock quietly and internally hoped that his captain was no worse in mind and body than Spock had last seen him**

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**Lost Horse Creek, Montana**

"**When you are lonely, let me be your companion. When you are tired, let me carry the load. When you need to learn, let me teach you… after all, I am your horse…"**

**-Unknown**

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**Chapter One: The Road**

"**Turn me loose, set me free, somewhere in the middle of Montana."**

**- **_**Big City**_**; Merle Haggard**

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_**Bunk 394: First Officer S'chn T'gai Spock; USS Enterprise NCC-1701**_

_**Starfleet Academy Officers Dormitories**_

_**San Francisco, California**_

_**Stardate:2260**_

_**September 13**_

_**0432 Hours**_

A five month over haul before the _Enterprise_ was turned free from her chain at space dock to under take one of two tentative missions.

Five years of deep space exploration.

Or a two year deployment weaving between the borders of the Outer Rim and deep Federation territory; providing support, acting as a show of force, a diplomatic vessel and maintaining a close distance to the flagship's birthplace.

Both were in play and both had a careful balance of benefit and sacrifice.

The five year stretch had been the first envisioned course of for the ship, but the events that had been sterilized by the name 'The Narada Incident', disrupted that vision. There was too much damage to close to the core of the Federation that needed to be controlled. The Vulcan recolonization project, the strain placed on the Romulan Empire in accordance with the Federation, the threat of more hostile and aggressive controls in the universe pressing on the Federation… not to mention the violent and devastating depletion of Starfleet personnel, young and experienced, as well as destruction of half dozen or so Starfleet Constitution and ----- class ships.

Starfleet had been vitally wounded and it made what most referred to as 'the Brass' nervous to have one of their last heavy weights to far away for to long. Most of the Starfleet High Command were leaning towards keeping the _Enterprise_ reigned in, close to rapid response range until a substantial recovery could be made.

While the Command debated and bristled over the situation the _Enterprise_'s crew underwent standard procedure for liberty in preparation of return. Every crew member, from E-1 to the Captain, went under a stringent of tests and decommission protocols for a reintroduction into civilian life until they were recalled once a month for retests and three weeks prior to deployment date for training and conditioning for the mission. The exams ranged from a dietary change to psychological tests and counseling.

Spock could not logically formulate a reason or means by which Jim Kirk slid through those psychological exams with out so much as a red flag.

It wasn't that Spock believed Jim was unfit mentally for his position, it was that the trauma of waking nightmares and pure exhaustion was still so fresh in the young captain. There should have been some inclination that something out of the ordinary had occurred with Jim's mind fairly recently.

Food poisoning.

That was what was logged into the data banks, medical records, reported to Starfleet and passed on to one overly curious, speculating, gossiping Russian genius teenager that within the hour made sure the entirety of the _Enterprise_'s rumor mill was buzzing with notions that ranged from the Corsa had unintentionally prepared foods with several components adverse to Jim's systems to the wild ideas that Jim had been poisoned in an assassination attempt to take over the Federation and only McCoy's medical prowess on site and Scott's corsair like defense of the doctor and captain had saved Jim's life.

No mention of 'horse' was ever made.

Food poisoning.

Not all that hard to believe granted that Jim had a medical reputation as wide spread as his playboy endeavors for being particularly difficult to treat and medicate thanks to an unusually delicate immune, digestive and endocrine system. Starfleet took it for what it was, under McCoy's assurance that Jim had consumed a large amount of God only knew what and that the young captain had tried to ride it out himself, resulting in the lack of sleep and changed, erratic behavior for ten days before McCoy isolated and cornered Jim to provide treatment.

It was everything that Starfleet could want: an accident that was somewhat supported by the Corsa's report that the diplomatic party had all seemed off color and without appetite through their three day feast and the chance to dress their youngest, ulcer inducing captain down a bit for being to proud to seek help.

Jim took it all in quiet stride, not flinching once at the minor mark made in his jacket and the additional medical exams he under went before release to temporary civilian life.

The reality of it was kept locked behind the teeth of the three involved. Jim himself never mentioned the incident, Spock found no logical reason to discuss it if the other two were going to ignore him and refuse that the whole thing had happened at all and Doctor Leonard McCoy only acknowledged the ordeal once since Spock had calmed Jim back reality.

Sitting quietly in the captain's quarters, Spock and McCoy had sat vigilant while Jim slept fitfully curled in a corner of his common room sofa. The medical chief had produced a ball point pen, a pad of yellow, lined writing paper and a slim manila folder that had no defining marks or labels and for over an hour McCoy had sat rigidly at Jim's desk, writing in a tight, doctor's scrawl on the pad, filling six pages before he was through and tucked the yellow pages into the manila folder along with several white pages already there. McCoy had disposed of the writing pad all together, shredding it, snapped the manila fold shut and tucked it securely under his arm. A look of warning was cast at Spock as the doctor stepped out of the room not to return again that night and left Spock to gently deal with Jim when the young man jerked awake in nightmares.

The diagnosis of acute food poisoning, and fear of further disrupting Jim's precariously balanced systems, gave McCoy more than enough reason to put Jim on two weeks of medical liberty without the aid of medical treatment other than a carefully designed diet before returning to tentative active duty. Spock sat in the captain's chair during the alpha and beta shift for two weeks and spent all other minutes without engagement sitting sentinel in Jim's quarters.

Jim gingerly put the weight back on that he'd lost and slept just enough to appear recovered and returned to his personality when he was activated to duty to finish out the month and a half left of the deployment and return to Earth without incident. But he slept only in the presence of Spock, not even McCoy could get the captain to relax enough into sleep without the half-Vulcan in the room.

It was if Jim could not feel himself secure unless Spock close by.

The First Officer understood this was another relinquish of self, done carefully and made cautiously in Jim's strained and yet unstable state. The half-Vulcan was unsure if it was another test or the reality of their ever deepening friendship; but Spock accepted it without question.

Jim's trust was something doled out carefully and stiffly. Spock had stood fast through the small, tentative helpings, accepting each and after drawing Jim back for the first time from the nightmares, was suddenly swallowed up in the surge of the young man's trust.

Jim was willing to turn himself over entirely to Spock, telling the half-Vulcan in the still of his sleep that he trusted Spock to keep him safe, to pull him back if he was needed or something was wrong, that he knew Spock and relied on him deeply enough that he would lay down his own well being. Jim willingly offered himself up to Spock's protection.

Spock was content to accept this offering and perhaps responsibility, settling himself at one end of Jim's sofa while the captain draped himself over the other in a typically odd but comfortable position and reading books borrowed from Jim's cache in the wooden footlocker while the young man dozed.

But Spock could sense that something had been unsettled deep in Jim, there had been a massive, internal upheaval and it would not quietly or easily subside. In private Jim had remained quieter than before the incident on Charus XI, he was less attentive and more inactive.

Spock could not shake the idea that his captain was suffering, nor could he ignore the ugly twist of agitation that it caused in him.

His own discomfort did not give way when the results came back that a little under weight but fully functioning mentally and physically, that Jim Kirk was fit for liberty as well as active duty at the end of their deployment.

Spock did not believe in luck, but he did have an inkling that there were an assortment of forces in the universe at work at any number of times that seemed fond James Tiberius Kirk and swayed everything to favor him… more or less.

At the very least it seemed to react quickly to counter any ill that fell on Jim.

The events at Charus XI had damaged the young man severely on a level that no one on the _Enterprise_ was privy to, but the universe had designed the blow to be as softened as possible.

It had happened close to the closure of the deployment, but not so immediate that Jim was not given a chance to take his place as captain, abet a little shakily, but able to restore the crew's faith in him. Jim was under the aggressive protection and expertise of McCoy, who seemed to have worked out the whole ordeal, start to finish, before it had truly begun. His additional friendship with Spock had been an anchor in the storm of nightmares. And all came at timing well enough that Jim could take his disquieted soul away from Starfleet for a time to heal and sort himself out before returning to his post.

With this assurance that the universe was at work in Jim's favor was a bitter tasting kind of comfort that only deepened Spock's agitation. He would not be at ease until the internal suffering Jim was fighting had passed. Be that Spock gave him the space and isolation a Vulcan would need to restore themselves or if he was needed to sit in Jim's company all day and half the night as a rock.

Jim's rigorous course of testing had ended late that evening and Spock had resolved to give the young captain a few hours time to settle himself before walking to Jim's quarters. While he need not have one, Spock had a logical excuse for seeking Jim out at four in the morning.

Spock was going to return _The Tao of Equus_. The half-Vulcan had made sure to return the Shakespearian works and an equine medical text to Jim a few nights before the _Enterprise_ had made dock, the other had been in his possession for a little over four months and Spock had analyzed it in every way he deemed possible and necessary. Spock had conceded that the book still danced just out of his reach of understanding.

The thought of taking on the rest of the author's texts, two more after _The Tao of Equus_ that Spock knew of only because Jim professed to owning them, was slightly disorienting.

Spock would return the book and ask for the other two in return to begin reading and stay in Jim's company for a time if the young captain was agreeable. If not Spock would ask Jim to accompany him for a late breakfast later in the day.

Spock, lifted the book and tucked it securely under his arm as he exited his quarters and started down the long line of dormitories. A number of the _Enterprise_'s ranking crew was quartered in this wing of the Starfleet dorms, lingering until testing was done or arrangements made for their liberty or some staying for the duration of the five months on Starfleet campus.

To Spock's knowledge the latter was Jim's own prerogative.

The First Officer strode quietly down the line of numbers until he came to 347, assigned to Jim on the first day returned to the campus. Spock lightly tapped the keypad for a request of entrance, sharp Vulcan hearing picked up the sound of the chime on the other side of the door.

But no other noises.

Spock listened, his muscles tightening at the lack of sound. The checked the assignment code for the room. It still stood as Jim's until further notice. Spock hesitated before tapping the keypad a second time.

The chime, muffled and echoed in the room was the only response.

Spock quickly typed in his access override code and slipped through the door as it slid open.

The room was abandoned.

Jim had not exactly settled into the generic bunk that had provided to him but there had been semblances of life when Spock had last stepped through. The sheets rumpled and unmade, a small pile of clothing that needed to be laundered, the wooden foot locker that housed Jim's cache of books and possibly a number of personal items.

All of it was gone.

The room looked as sterile and neat as it had before Jim was assigned to it. Spock felt a tension string across his shoulders and add to the agitation that bubbled in his gut.

Something was not right.

Spock turned from the empty dorm and made his way out of the officer quarters, through the lobby and out into the cool darkness of the campus. His stride was even, but wrought with tension as he crossed the deserted lawns and sidewalks, not bothering to stay on the cement paths as the First Officer made a beeline for the medical facilities. Spock, climbed the short flight of steps and crossed into the well lit lobby.

The on campus medical wing, labs and medical personnel dormitories were the only ones that were a twenty four hour operating and active facilities, all others could only be given open access after hours at the request and permission given by a ranking officer of Starfleet's educational staff, specifically the ones on staff of the facilities in question.

The bright light of the large lobby reminded Spock of a modern Terran hospital, the lobby swept off in four different directions behind thick, double doors. The floor was the same terra cotta tile of the rest of the buildings on campus but sported a stretch of artfully designed carpeting of earth tones and swirling, abstract shapes. Along the walls of the lobby were a number of plush, chocolate colored chairs, wood tables sporting the odd datapad for reading and a few potted plants. The center point of the lobby was a large curved desk made of dark honey colored wood and a brown granite top, with a large, potted vine at each end of the desk. Behind the desk were a number of translucent, suspended screens, most sporting spreadsheets of medical personnel on duty, where they were located, a string of patients names and their room numbers, a list of scheduled surgeries and labs works. But one screen, in the late… or early hour, was logged into a popular Terran late night show that the host was currently interviewing and teasing a politician that had supposedly cheated on her spouse to entertain the skeletal front desk staff in the dead hours filled only by doctor and nurse rounds and the occasional stray patient.

When he entered a chime rang loudly through the lobby and one of three personnel behind the desk turned from the screen and stood from his chair to meet Spock over the desk. The lithe, young cadet was probably an intern waiting for his admission to the medical program, he was sporting a short sleeve polo shirt, emblazoned on the right side of his chest with the Starfleet medical crest in red thread and a pair of standard issue black cargo pants and combat boots. The cadet's hair was a mass of ruffled, pale blonde locks and his eyes a sharp brown, still dancing in laughter over the politician's misfortune. There was a slim chain around his wrist sporting a thin metal plate for a medical alert band for Diabetes and an identification badge and pass clipped to his collar.

He smiled slightly at Spock and oddly didn't take on the rigid stance and acknowledgment of the presence of a higher ranking officer; he stayed lax and practically draped himself over the top of the desk. While on campus Spock had taken up wearing his black, commander's uniform and was easily acknowledged of his rank among a sea of red, and he wore it now. It was unusual and seemed odd to Spock to not be saluted and addressed formally. But if McCoy and a number of other medical staff Spock had contact with on a regular basis were anything to go on it was not unusual for the medical personnel and students to believe that they were above the formalities and restrictions of rank on a daily level. Medical was the one department, that when it came down to it, had absolute power.

And the members of medical knew that.

"How can I help you, Commander?" He asked quietly, but his voice still rang and hung loudly in the empty lobby.

"I request the room assignment for Doctor Leonard McCoy of the _Enterprise_."

Halfway through his sentence the young cadet, Allan Mallory by his badge, had gone very still, as if Spock were a predator with a vision based only in movement. Behind him the other two desk staff, a petite Andorian female and a slightly over weight, red headed human male, both dressed in the same embroidered polo, black cargos and combat boots, turned slowly in their chairs.

Spock did not give any outward show of interest at their reactions as the three cadets stared at him.

"…'M sorry… you said 'McCoy'? Right?" Mallory asked as he twisted to look over his shoulder at his companions before his attention fixed back on Spock.

"That is correct." Spock assured.

Mallory swallowed thickly.

"McCoy … who's not supposed to be on duty until the midday shift at 1400 hours that you want to wake up at 0430 McCoy? 'Bones' McCoy?" Mallory asked as he spoke seemed to wilt a little.

"Is there a problem cadet?" Spock asked coolly, one eyebrow raised.

"Him giving you the information and ending up a volunteer for exploratory, neuro-surgery demos." The red headed cadet snorted.

"Shut up, Kidrick!" Mallory snapped over his shoulder, even as his hands started too moved over the computer console to bring up the information on medical personnel assigned quarters in the building.

Kidrick only grinned doggedly and brought a pen to his lips to chew on the end.

Mallory, much stiffer across the shoulders, pulled the information up on one of the spreadsheet screens.

"Here, Commander. Bunk 48 on the fourth level." Mallory pointed out the information on the suspended screen, then motioned towards one of the double doors. "The closest lift is through the East Wing door."

"Thank you cadet. I will do my best to redirect Doctor McCoy's wrath." Spock dipped his head and started for the turbolift, leaving the young intern looking a little pale and possibly hopeful.

"Make sure to come by the amphitheater observation room and watch Allan get his skull sawed open later today!" Kidrick called after Spock. The First Officer didn't turn but heard the distinct sound of some object hitting and bouncing off flesh and a strangled curse between coughs.

Spock stood very still in the turbolift, his hand wrapped white knuckled around _The Tao of Equus_ until the door slid open again and Spock stepped out to a deserted and silent dormitory floor. A quick glance down one hallway turned the half-Vulcan to walk briskly down another, following the numbers to 48 and didn't hesitated to tap the keypad for requested entrance.

As soon as the chime sounded there was a muffled grunt from the other side of the door.

Spock waited but no other sound came after the grunt, possibly McCoy believed he's dreamed the summons and turned over in his sleep.

Spock tapped the keypad twice in succession, making sure McCoy could not mistake the reality of the call.

There was a noise from the other side the sounded suspiciously like McCoy had screamed the words 'go away' into his pillow.

Spock actually felt his knuckles crack when his hand balled in an impatient fist. He chimed again, this time adding his voice to the call. "Doctor McCoy, I request an audience."

There was no mistaking the muffled snarl of 'hobgoblin' from behind the door and after a moment of shuffling and a loud thud of something large hitting the floor McCoy opened his door and stood squarely in the doorway.

His chocolate hair was sticking up in odd directions, his face rough with stubble and dark eyes dulled with sleep but flickering in rage under drooping lids. The medical chief was dressed only in a pair of black boxers and a vintage tee shirt sporting the image of a late twentieth century ambulance and the words 'THIS IS HOW I ROLL' on the gray fabric. A slim silver chain hung around his throat supporting a slender crucifix for the Terran Christian faith.

McCoy looked Spock blearily up and down once.

"I'm givin' that intern a lobotomy…" The doctor growled, his voice deeper and southern drawl thicker on the edge of sleep.

"I believe that they are aware of your intentions prior to your commitment to the… 'punishment'. But Doctor I must vouch for Cadet Mallory as he has only done what I have requested of him, and done with great reluctance, if there is any factor to your decision."

McCoy blinked slowly a few times, his brain slowly coming back into focus to follow and process what Spock had just said to him.

"Then ya can have a lobotomy, too." McCoy growled finally and lifted a large hand to scrub at his face. "It's four thirty in the mornin'. Ya better be dyin' or a messenger from God, ya pointy-eared mutt, what do ya want?"

"There is no medical emergency nor have I received a dictation from your deity to speak of, Doctor."

McCoy fixed him with a look that Spock had never seen before on McCoy's face. Pure and utter disillusionment.

"What. The Hell. Do ya. Want." McCoy deadpanned.

"The captain is missing from his assigned quarters." Spock responded tensely, his grip on the book in his hand tightening.

McCoy shifted and crossed his arms loosely over his chest, one of his own eyebrows quirking up. "What were ya tryin' to see Jim for at four in the mornin' for?"

"Irrelevant, doctor." Spock said tightly. "The captain is missing."

"Relax Spock-"

"Do you know of his whereabouts?"

"Yeah. Yeah I know where he is. Cody came and picked him up about seven hours ago." McCoy's tone had softened some and he leaned heavily in the frame of the door, his eyes drifting shut as he spoke. "Right after he got released from testin'. Was down here earlier yesterday mornin' got his stuff together while Jim finished up. Booked after he was done."

"I was not made aware of this arrangement." Spock all but growled, the tension and discomfort in his gut ratcheting up instead of relaxing.

"Ya were in the labs or somethin'. Jim said he couldn't find ya, said he looked for an hour and seemed kind of upset over not findin' ya." McCoy slit one eye open to look at Spock. "Hang on."

The doctor leaned around to lock the door open on his keypad before dropping back into his dorm to lift something off his desk and crossed back to lean in the doorway, holding out two thick, hard bound books.

The later siblings of _The Tao of Equus_, the series written by Linda Kohanov nearly two hundred and fifty years before.

"I was goin' to look for ya before I went on shift later today. He asked me to keep 'em for ya, said he'd be back the end of liberty and he'll try and look for ya in between."

Spock lifted the two books and the knot of discomfort in his stomach hardened into a rock and dropped heavily into place in his gut.

"Where is his location, Doctor."

McCoy quirked an eyebrow. "What?"

"Where is the captain's location."

It was a command for the information, not a question. The First Officer felt the unsettling threat of emotion simmering just under the surface on his mind, it twisted and bristled around the rock in his stomach. Something was not right. Jim was unbalanced, unsettled and shaken from his base, Spock knew this, knew that Jim was teetering on the edge of an internal corruption.

Stupidly the captain had separated himself from who he could count to anchor him, it seemed McCoy was either fooled by Jim's seemingly outward recovery or was content to allow the young captain to isolate, test and threaten his integrity alone.

Spock truly hoped it was the former.

"Why?" McCoy cocked his head.

Spock felt his jaw lock briefly before speaking. "While all his examinations have said otherwise I believe that the captain is still unstable. He may be in need of assistance in centering himself, thus far he has unspokenly recruited you as well as myself to act as those mediators for his recovery."

Both of McCoy's eyebrows rose to his hair line.

"Spock. Jim's fine." The doctor assured. "If he's not now by the time he gets back he will be."

"I cannot begin to explain the illogical nature of that statement, Doctor." Spock responded coolly.

McCoy hardened, insistent when he spoke, "He's fine."

"The captain has yet reached a point in his recovery that he is capable of mediating himself. He still cannot sleep without our presence."

"Ya mean yer presence." McCoy snorted.

Spock narrowed his eyes at the doctor.

"Jim's fine Spock. He's not ditchin' us, just goin' to get his head straight for a while and he doesn't need us for that." McCoy narrowed his eyes in return, his nostril's flaring slightly.

"Doctor, where is the captain now or headed at present time."

"He's been takin' care of himself since he was a pup Spock. It's been fun bein' babysitters for a while but he can handle himself."

"Where is the captain."

"He's fine-"

"In order to leave the campus the captain will have submitted request and information to his whereabouts for the duration of his liberty. If I do not get the information from you I will find it else where in the Starfleet database. His location, Doctor."

McCoy narrowed his eyes to near slits but found no give in Spock's stoic mask. The doctor licked his lips and sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair before looking up and locking eyes with Spock.

"Lost Horse Creek. Montana. Just outside of Darby in the Bitterroot Range of the Rocky Mountains… the old Flathead Native territories. Cody moved the ranch up there from Iowa five years back… expect ya'll want some kind of directions."

"I can find them in the Starfleet database."

"No ya probably cain't." McCoy growled and retreated to his desk to draw dig a datapad from the bottom of a stack. McCoy crossed back to the door, efficiently wiping the pad's memory clean, accessing the Starfleet secured database as well as the internet to program the information into the pad.

"Soonest ya can probably be outta here is midday today. Ya'll hit Missoula pretty easy, big enough transports are goin' in and out all the time, not sure but there might be a Starfleet base near it too… either there or Helena… if it's in Missoula it'll make everythin' easier on ya. If not ya'll be able to get a transport from there to Hamilton, I'm sure, it's gotten bigger in the last few years with the tourism and all that bull. If yer lucky and ya catch someone in a good mood ya might get one out to Darby, or at least ya might be able to find someone goin' the same way that'll take ya. But from Darby on ye guaranteed yer goin' to have to find it yerself."

"A ranch."

"Yeah. Native Sky Ranch. Cody Chicalato's place, got 'bout fifteen thousand acres up there of native Rocky range and prairie plateau right on Lost Horse Creek. That's where Jim'll be, no doubt."

"Thank you, Doctor. Though I cannot understand your sudden disinterest and disregard for the captain's well being."

McCoy bristled and his eyes blazed as he snorted through his nose, but when he spoke his voice was calm and even. "Spock. I told ya, Jim's fine. He's in good hands goin' some place that's good for his head, heart and body. Don't think for one second that if I thought Jim was in any kind of trouble I wouldn't be next to him in a heartbeat."

Spock listened carefully and looked the doctor over once before dipping his head. "My previous statement was unfounded and therefore illogical."

"Apology accepted. Sides, I was goin' to head up there in a month and a half anyway when I got done workin' through the crew's medical files. Now only one I'm worried 'bout is ya."

Spock cocked his head. "Really, Doctor?"

"Don't look so smug. Yer talkin' 'bout chasin' down Jim, for no reason might I add, to a far northern state that doesn't get a lot of xeno interaction at all and can be a little on the rigid side of the whole issue. All while said state is driftin' into winter, ya do know that Montana can get sub zero temperatures and feet of snow at a time, right? As far from Vulcan ya can get… 'cept maybe the thin air… but it all sounds a little illogical, don't ya think?"

Spock stiffened slight but lifted his chin. "I will take necessary precautions, Doctor."

McCoy narrowed his eyes and sighed, muttering under his breath.

"If ya want to go so badly ya can come up with me next month."

"The duration of hesitation you are proposing I find unacceptable."

"Fine ya stubborn bastard. Dress warm, don't look people in the eye and here-" McCoy twisted and whistled into his dorm.

There was a sound of something large dropping to the floor and soft clicks crossing the room into the doorway.

"-Take Nemo A534 with ya."

The animal moved to sit neatly at McCoy's side and tilted his head back to look at Spock.

It was a German Shepherd.

The dog was large; the top of his head equal height to the medical chief's hip and possibly weighed a hundred pounds or more. A long, narrow muzzle, large ears that stood straight up at attention and a thick coat of cinnamon brown fur accompanied by black markings over his head, throat, saddled across his back and running midway down each long leg ending in large, clawed paws.

A wide collar was buckled around the dog's throat, baring an identification plate screwed into the leather baring the name 'NEMO A534' and contact information in Montana.

The dog cocked his head slightly. On the left side of his face was a large, caramel colored eye that blinked slowly. The right side was marred by several deep scars running from ear, over eye to the tip of his nose. The dog's right eye was an empty socket that the lids had healed closed over the gap of the missing organ.

"Nemo A534 knows the way. He could take ya there if ya wanted to walk from here. Turn him loose when ya get to Darby and he'll lead ya to Native Sky's front door."

McCoy handed Spock the reprogrammed datapad and rested a large hand on Nemo A534's head, stroking the dog's ears back.

"Doctor, it would be illogical for me to take this animal with me."

"Illogical maybe, but smart, definitely. It's Jim's dog anyway, they just left him with me 'cause they figured I'd get lonely without somethin' to chase 'round." McCoy patted the dog a last time before snapping his fingers and making a few short motions with his hands. Nemo A534 watched the doctor's hands intently before rising to his paws stepping out of the doorway and lightly walking around behind Spock's legs to sit neatly at the First Officer's right side.

"Doctor, having the company of this animal-"

"His name's Nemo A534 and this really isn't up for discussion. See ya in a month and a half."

McCoy stepped back, fingering the keypad on the wall and the door slid shut.

Spock blinked once, then twice at the closed door before looking down at the one eyed Shepherd sitting patiently and silently at his side. The dog's head tilted to look back up at him, ears twitched forward expectantly.

Spock cleared his throat and shifted the three hard bound books and datapad in his arms to free one hand. As a child Spock's mother had taught him a certain level of respect for living things beyond known sentient beings. Raised as a true Vulcan it had seemed alien to Spock to extend respect and acknowledgement of self to animals that had no fore thought or rational thinking, but he had gone along with his mother's lessons to please her before promptly logging them as illogical in his mind.

But in the past four months Jim had been expressing similar ideals on Spock. Far more intense and with a depth that far surpassed those short lessons given by his mother, but similar.

Spock carefully extended his open hand to Nemo A534, keeping it still and making sure to show no outwards signs of fear or aggression towards the dog.

Nemo A534 twisted his head so his eye settled on Spock's hand, briefly glancing up at the half-Vulcan before dropping his nose into Spock's palm and sniffed at his flesh. The scarred, wet folds of skin just hovering over Spock's palm, not touching. Nemo A534's head twisted and sniffed up Spock's wrist and the hem of his shirt.

Satisfied the dog sat back and lifted his head to look towards Spock's face, head cocked slightly to better see. Spock retracted his hand, hesitated before reaching out to lightly pass his hand over Nemo A534's head, as his palm smoothed over them the large, triangular ears swept back to flatten down before raising back up in the wake of Spock's stroke.

It was none of the natural easiness that McCoy had demonstrated but it wasn't awkward or uncomfortable either.

Spock straightened and looked back down at the dog from his full height as Nemo A534 kept his expectant and attentive eye locked on his face.

"I believe that this was the first time that I have ever participated in 'petting' a dog." Spock informed the one eyed German Shepherd.

Nemo A534's tail swished once across the floor and the dog's jaws broke open for a singular, deep chested bark that sounded in the empty hall like a gunshot, echoing before fading into silence again. Internally Spock's rapidly beating heart jumped at the unexpected and foreign noise while he remained stoic outwardly.

"Do not repeat that action."

Nemo A534's head cocked further to the side but made no noise.

"Walk with me." Spock instructed and turned to start down the hall towards the turbolift. Nemo A534 bounced up to his feet and paced evenly at Spock's side, their shoulder's aligned in perfect step. When Spock paused a step at the turbolift the dog instantly sat back onto his haunches. Then rose to his paws again to pass into the small space to sit again at Spock's side. Then they exited the turbolift Spock conducted an experiment as he made for the exit of double doors in the large hall.

Spock stopped walking a number of different times after irregular paces. At each pause Nemo A534 stopped and sat on his haunches at Spock's right side only getting to his paws when he started moving again.

"Fascinating." The half-Vulcan said as the double door slid back to reveal the brightly lit lobby. The three interns tensely looked up in his direction but relaxed obviously at the sight of Spock.

"Cadet Mallory, Doctor McCoy will be scheduling your lobotomy when he goes on shift." Spock informed the young man.

The red headed Kidrick barked in laughter and taunted the smaller boy with a wide grin. Mallory shoved Kidrick sharply in the gut as he rose to stand behind the desk, looking pale, to watch Spock and the one eyed dog cross the lobby towards the exit.

"Good morning, Commander." He called at Spock's retreating back, then whistled sharply. "Nemo A534! Catch!"

The German Shepherd instantly whirled around as the intern tossed a protein nib across the lobby. The dog leapt forward, snatched the morsel mid air, chomped it between his jaws before twisting and bounding back to Spock's side. The dog dropped back to sit at the half-Vulcan's side and looked up at him expectantly, licking his chops.

Spock looked from the dog to the now smiling cadet and back again. Spock dismissed the behavior and moved forward, the dog easily falling into measured steps at his side, following out of the lobby doors, down the front steps and onto the cement paths and lawn.

Spock half expected the dog to run away. The First Officer's observations of dogs in the campus area and park outside supported the assumption that upon reaching open land a dog would race away from their owner or handler to dig into dirt or chase another of it's species or lift it's leg against some object.

Nemo A534 did none of these. The one eyed Shepherd stayed at Spock's hip as if he were tethered there. The dog lifted his head higher than it had been indoors, his ears twitched and swiveled around, catching the early morning noises of the campus and twisted his head so his single eye could look around. But the dog never moved a step a head or dropped behind or sideways, keeping a solid easy paced with Spock.

The First Officer had a mild curiosity to break into a run and see the dog's reaction, but he restrained the impulse and led the German Shepherd back across to the officer's dormitories, up the steps and into the main doors before moving down the hall to the wing where his assigned bunk was located.

They passed a few early risers or all nighters, both Spock and Nemo A534 receiving a fair share of surprised or confused looks. When they reached Spock's dorm the half-Vulcan shifted his assortment of texts and datapad to type in the code. As he did one of the hard bound books tumbled to the floor, it's spine cracking loudly as the book landed open on it's pages, bending a number of them under it's weight.

Spock felt something deep in his gut twist, bend and nearly crack. He'd never dropped one of Jim's books before, much less damaged it with bent pages and cracked spine. Spock could not explain, much less completely fight down the rise of emotion that threatened him.

Before the First Officer could bend to retrieve the book, Nemo A534 stepped around, dropped his head and gently wrapped his jaws around the back of the splayed open text. His teeth lightly scratched the cover as the dog lifted the book from the floor, his jaws wrapped around the spine and cover and closed the manuscript as he lifted it.

Spock watched in fascinated amazement as Nemo A534 then reared up on his hind legs, bracing his forepaws on the wall next to them and stretched to lightly drop the book back on top of the small stack balanced in Spock's arms. Nemo A534 pressed his nose into the spine of the returned text, nudging it closer to Spock's chest before the dog dropped back to the floor to sit at Spock's side and look up at him expectantly.

"I did not believe an animal was capable of performing the service you have just done me."

Nemo A534's head cocked to the side, his eye turned to look at Spock as he spoke.

"Either you are very well trained or much more intelligent that I earlier perceived."

Nemo A534's ears twitched back once and a quiet sneeze blew through his nose. The dog shook his head and licked his lips before looking back up at Spock then towards the door before returning his gaze to the First Officer.

Spock keyed in the access code and stood back to allow Nemo A534 to step in a head of him. The dog crossed the quarters quietly, making a large circle before moving to sit at the foot of the bed, while Spock stepped into the room and settled the books and datapad down onto the neatly made comforter next to the dog.

Spock did not speak to the animal as he crossed to the computer and communications unit set up on one corner of his desk. Sitting, Spock passed his hands over the console, activating and accessing the Starfleet secured databank and the internet.

Over the course of an hour Spock had finished and submitted his request for liberty and reachable location at Native Sky Ranch in Montana. He then booked a seat on a transport to Missoula, pausing before confirming the reservation and glanced up at Nemo A534. The dog had climbed onto his bed and was lying on his belly, head on his paws and watching Spock with that single intent eye.

It was somewhat eerie, Spock felt as if he was being judged and sized up but at the same time accepted and waited on. Spock quickly read through the protocols of the transport for pets and changed his reservation for two seats on the earliest departure that day, which as McCoy had suggested, would not be until late afternoon. Spock set up a similar booking from Missoula to Hamilton for the day after, confirming a room at an in-port traveler's lodge for the over night stay.

And again, as McCoy suggested, he could not find a transport from Hamilton to Darby.

Spock hesitated a moment before rising and moving across the room towards the door. A loud thud echoed in the space and there was a scrape of nails as Nemo A534 dropped to the floor and galloped two strides to Spock's hip and walked easily at the half-Vulcan's side out the door and down the hall.

Spock stopped only a little ways down the corridor and tapped a keypad out side of 364 to request entrance. A few moments passed and the door slid open to reveal Communications Lieutenant Nyota Uhura standing in the frame in a red tank top and black PT pants. The slim, black woman blinked in mild surprise.

"Spock? Is something wrong?" He eyes cast down and fell on Nemo A534 with a slight face of surprise and disgust at the mutilated animal's face. "Is that a dog?"

The one eyed German Shepherd pinned his ears back for a moment before pricking forward again, twisting to look up at Spock.

"I believe they are specifically called German Shepherd Dogs."

Uhura flashed her chocolate eyes from Nemo A534 to Spock then back. "What are you doing with a dog?"

"Doctor McCoy has commissioned me to return Nemo A534 to his home as I am traveling to the same destination. To answer your previous inquiry, yes, there is something wrong."

Uhura tensed instantly. "What's going on Spock?"

"The captain has left campus unexpectedly and unannounced except privy to Doctor McCoy." Spock said somewhat stiffly. Uhura cocked her head slightly.

"The captain didn't tell you he was leaving?" Uhura, as well as the majority of the crew were aware of Spock and Jim's ever tightening friendship. In the some of the grittier rumors Spock had evidently taken Jim on as a lover of some kind, though there were no facts to support the accusations save the fledgling bond of friendship the Spock and Jim had no reason to hide from the crew.

"Doctor McCoy relayed to me that the captain had endeavored to find me and was unsuccessful in uncovering my location on the campus before his allotted time of departure." Spock refrained from mentioning that Jim had left him the two books and a relay of goodbye in McCoy's possession. "The Doctor was also kind enough to inform me of the captain's whereabouts and I intend to travel there as quickly as possible."

Uhura's eyes narrowed. "You're… going after him?"

"Nyota. I believe that the captain's state of mind and body is yet unstable and that his premature departure from campus has endangered his own well being. It is my duty to ensure the safety and health of my superior officer, even if it is from himself. I have already made arrangements to depart later this afternoon. If you so desire Doctor McCoy has informed me that he intends to reach the same location in six weeks time and you may join us in traveling with him."

Uhura sighed tightly. "Where are you going?"

"Lost Horse Creek, Montana. The Doctor assured me that I would be able to find the captain at the Native Sky Ranch, owned by a Cody Chicalato. I expect to be at the ranch in approximately three days if all goes well."

…

_**State Highway 93**_

_**Darby, Bitterroot Mountain Range, Rocky Mountains, Ravalli County, Montana**_

_**Stardate: 2260**_

_**September 18**_

_**0724 Hours**_

All did not go well.

Spock knew of an old belief that pets often seem to resemble their owners in both looks and personality. The First Officer could not rightly say that Nemo A534 was Jim in looks or mannerisms but he could safely admit that the one eyed Shepherd seemed to share Jim's ability to attract a certain kind of unwanted attention.

The first leg of Spock and Nemo A534's journey was straightforward and uneventful, Spock distracted by datapads and the series of Linda Kohanov's books and the one eyed dog sleeping curled up in the aisle seat next to the First Officer.

Spock had learned quickly that Nemo A534 preferred the aisle seat, able to sniff and cock his head at passengers and attendants walking and shoving up and down the narrow path between the columns of seats. The short trip from Starfleet campus to the transport dock Spock had mistakenly sat in the aisle seat and endured ugly and unnerved looks from other passengers when Nemo A534 had stood in the middle of the aisle barking every 15.6743 seconds until Spock rose from his place and moved over one.

Spock had learned the lesson and boarding the transport to Missoula had moved to sit in the window seat first.

Missoula, Montana was a large enough city that it saw its fair share of visitors and immigrants from other planetary systems. Though Spock not help but catalogue the number of looks that had been cast his way, not just by humans but by a few xeno citizens as well. The First Officer was unsure if the looks were sent his way because he was Vulcan and a rarity in the universe now or because there was a very large German Shepherd constantly at his side. His room at the in-port traveler's inn had been relatively comfortable, with an odd décor resembling a hunting lodge complete with the antlers of large, browsing animals as an accent to every piece of furniture in the room. Further more Spock had not objected to Nemo A534 climbing up to share the large bed with him, in all truthfulness Spock found the large, lump of solid warmth pressed at his hip or draped over his legs a comfort.

The next day their transport was delayed long enough that Spock was able to get caught up in a local homicide case where a number of xeno citizens were under investigation. Spock's attempt at logic and explanation of his position in Starfleet had resulted in one of the mourners to lash out at his seemingly cold demeanor, which got said individual severely bitten by Nemo A534 when the dog rushed to Spock's defense.

Spock had conceded to himself that he was conversing with an animal as if it were sentient while he explained to Nemo A534 why his actions had been particularly 'Jim-like' while they waited in a locked jail cell and Nemo A534 tried to rip off a muzzle.

Release the next morning had been welcome but the transport long missed and the only one leaving for Hamilton was on the other side of the city in the late afternoon, which was not a direct transport and stopped off in several different small cities along the way.

Each to small to be anything but tense at the sight of a different species. Not to mention a massive dog missing an eye.

The correct human term, Spock believed, was things went down hill from there. Minor incidents that could be ignored seemed to stack up and get steadily worse as time trickled by.

A lay over for a late evening meal in Lolo had yielded no completely vegan meals, but Spock was gifted with a deeper understanding of Nemo A534 when the dog had been easily and complimentary served a bowl of day old chili had refused to even open his mouth and sat, fasting with the half-Vulcan, at Spock's side loyally. The First Officer did not feel so foolish to talk to the dog at length after that.

Florence gave Spock his first, and hopefully last, scar. A bracelet of pearled scar tissue would eventually heal around his left wrist when the half-Vulcan was dragged into a fist fight in front of the small town's local bar and his hand was entangled in a length of barbed wire. He was grateful his wrist had not been broken… only sprained.

Spock could only understand the logic and reasoning behind the Victor town council and community when they banished him and Nemo A534 from their limits. The half-Vulcan decidedly kept his rebuttal debate of the insufficient way the statue had been secured to its base to himself. Spock could understand it but he could not shake the strange weight of being banned from returning to a place for the duration of his natural lifespan.

And the First Officer honestly could not remember the fire. The remnants were the delicate blossoms of dark green and sickly yellow bruises across his side and over his forearm where Nemo A534 had locked his jaws and the ugly, six inch long burn in the dog's shoulder that caused a serve limp and small noises of pain from the German Shepherd. All that Spock knew of the fire was it was the reason that he and Nemo A534 had walked from Woodside to Hamilton.

Spock felt he was near exhaustion. He'd only truly slept that first night at the traveler's lodge and had not meditated since leaving the campus.

He hadn't eaten well and hadn't had a shower since that first night… unless he counted being drenched in a sudden torrential rain storm in Stevensville or being completely submerged in the Bitterroot River in Corvallis under the hands of a holy man and probably becoming the first Vulcan to be baptized.

But above it all was the cold. By human standards it was mild, only enough to make the edges of leaves begin to turn color. But Vulcan and California alike were places of acrid, dry heat at their peaks. Their air tinged with salt and that scent of heated stone and earth, where human sweated and complained and took refuge indoors or in water.

But for Spock this cold wasn't biting, but sluggish and taunting, seeping slowly through his traveler's shirts and slacks, pooling down through his muscles into his marrow and joints and settled around his core, hovering and threatening with an internal chill that Spock could not shake.

Instead of the salt tipped, dry air the air here was thin but heavy with damp. To moist to breathe properly without the feeling of feeding some wet growth in his lungs.

It was not enough to stop him, much less slow him down any more than he was already slowed but it was an annoyance that was a steady corrosion against his already tightly strung nerves.

But Hamilton brought relief.

A citizen, one that looked more like a grizzled predatory animal more than a man, with his brown hair streaked in grey and sharp, dark eyes; had recognized Nemo A534 on sight.

The dog had greeted the stranger, Harry Gritt, balanced on three legs and with a slight wave of his tail but refused to leave Spock's side. In return the half-Vulcan, now made wary by his treatment for the last three and a half days, settled a hand firmly on Nemo A534's shoulder and carded his fingers through the dog's hair while Gritt approached and spoke to them before leading them to a nearby veterinarian. The doctor had not only looked over Nemo A534's burn but had lightly passed her nimble and sure hands over the bruises across Spock's arm and side as well as gently cleaned and wrapped his slowly healing wrist.

Gritt was far friendlier than his appearance and, on Spock's refusal for a night's stay at the local bed and breakfast, offered to drive Spock to Darby and let him off.

Waylaid for so long and assaulted by so many ill events and disruptions it was nearly surreal to stand in front of the rough structure made of native stone and carved and painted words that declared Spock and Nemo A534 welcome to Darby, Montana; Population 956.

Nemo A534 glanced from Spock's face towards the Darby sign then back again before the dog hobbled one step to the side to press his good shoulder into the First Officer's knee and along his calf.

Spock responded immediately with an action that over the course of a few days had become so habitual it now had a natural flow to it. Spock's hand rested lightly on Nemo A534's head, swept back in a single, smooth stroke over the fur, down his neck and stopped between his shoulders to card in the hair. Spock gave a single, slight tug before releasing his grip on the dog's fur and letting his hand drop back to his side.

The one eyed German Shepherd was carefully keeping his weight off his wounded leg and the burn was sporting a thick layer of a orange, burn salve that was knitting the charred flesh back together neatly.

Spock let out a slow breath before looking down into Nemo A534's eye, the dog returned the gaze clam and expectant.

"You have not led us astray between Woodside and Hamilton. I have no reason to believe you do not know the way from here."

Nemo A534 snorted softly and pushed away from Spock's side and started off at a slow and stiff walk. Spock kept a pace a step behind, giving the dog room to lead but stayed close enough the half-Vulcan could easily reach out and touch the dog without bending or quickening his steps to do so.

Nemo A534 led the First Officer quietly and slowly through the narrow roads of Darby, following wooden, covered boardwalk porches that connected the line of small storefronts and businesses of Darby. The personal home structures stood alone with their own porches over looking small fenced in yards.

Spock did not bother to take deep note of them. His eyes flicking from time to time away from the rolling back of Nemo A534 to catch the color of a house or words stenciled decoratively on a store window and occasionally to see a local look their way then lean in to talk quietly with the person next to them.

There were few of the Darby population out in the streets at the early hour but those that were up talked quietly among themselves and did not approach.

Nemo A534 continued his slow and steady pace, as if conserving energy, and hobbling on his slowly healing leg and Spock kept with him. The half-Vulcan would not pause unless the dog did. Nemo A534 was his responsibility, entrusted to him by McCoy and inadvertently Jim Kirk. Jim Kirk who Spock was so close to in these final steps.

The rock of agitation had never left Spock for a second, in fact it had only grown deeper and heavier, weighing him down. Every moment passed out of his captain's company was another moment Spock feared for the mental and physical state he would find the young man in.

There was a different ache settled around the rock in his gut. An ache that Spock had felt often as child.

Failure. It all circled slowly. Growing heavier with each pass.

Unlike his follies in youth Spock could find no relief from this weight through study or learned mistakes. This was the weight of transgressions against an unspoken trust. It had started when Spock dropped and damaged one of Jim's books an eternity ago. It had grown steadily, taking up residence in his stomach where it throbbed and pulsed unrestricted by regular meditation. Spock could not leave it behind, couldn't force it to relax its grip, because the reminder of his failure paced steadily at his side all hours of the day.

Nemo A534 was Jim's dog.

Or at lest that's what he'd been told by McCoy. The doctor had been entrusted with the animal's welfare, who unceremoniously thrust the responsibility on Spock, who had no prior knowledge or experience. And while it had become very clear that in all aspects Nemo A534 could and would take care of himself there was a level on which Spock was responsible.

And he'd done a poor job of it.

In turn of the failure in of an inadequate performance as a care giver, which was disquieting enough as Spock had always endeavored to treat Jim's thatch with the highest level of respect and exceptional care, he'd broken an inadvertent offering of Jim's trust but he'd broken the trust of the one eyed dog as well.

Spock accepted that Nemo A534 was far more intelligent and aware of his surroundings than what Spock could refer to as a 'normal dog'. With that intelligence was an array of the animal's emotions and senses. The First Officer understood now that Nemo A534 could do what humans could not, and sense the feeling broiling just under Spock's rigid control and react accordingly. In the dark of the Montana twilight and nightfall and an unusual bout of loneliness struck the First Officer Nemo A534 moved a few fractions closer or draped his head over Spock's thigh an in these small interactions Spock learned to stroke the dog's fur with a natural ease. Those times when the bitter taste of anger burned at the back of Spock's throat Nemo A534 stepped away to investigate some smell or sound and give the half-Vulcan a fraction of space he needed to collect himself.

And somewhere along the way it seemed Nemo A534 had developed a sense of responsibility for Spock and did what the dog did naturally to protect him, flying at Spock's defense when a fist was slung his way or growling when Spock was on the end of slander.

Spock could not deny that in their time together Nemo A534 had taken better care of Spock than Spock had of Nemo A534.

The last straw was the burn that hobbled the dog, causing him pain and to make small noises to the like of it.

Spock had failed the dog, allowing him to go without sleep or proper food and water or protect him from bodily harm and as he failed the dog he failed Jim.

Spock registered that Nemo A534 had veered down a narrow, paved side road and led Spock west out of Darby along the side of the asphalt. Spock took a chance to sweep his eyes over the jagged rise and fall of purple and blue mountains against a steel colored sky, their peaks dusted in snow and hidden behind clouds. The thick, hardy brush of mountain growth and forest was close on all sides, casting shade from the canopy of trees with trunks thicker than Spock's waist and taller than most buildings. The biting scent of cold rock and hardwoods battled for dominance in Spock's senses. The shade dropped the temperature of the air around Spock enough that a few, barely controlled shivers twitched across his skin. The miles along the side of the road trickled by almost unnoticed. After walking an hour along this back road the land sloped suddenly downwards and the rush of flowing water reached Spock's ears as Nemo A534's steady pace led them onto and across an ancient bridge of heavy, wood boards and steel structure. Spock peered over the side of the bridge to look down into the flowing water of what could only be Lost Horse Creek.

The water rumbled in low rolls of thunder. The murky liquid churned, boiling into a froth over the humps of sunken rocks and boulders. The tint of green flashed in the early light of algae and underwater plant growths. Spock suppressed a shiver when looking at the edges of the stones and back there was a fine, thin sheet of ice was slushed against the surface.

Nemo A534 trekked on, Spock in tow, and the landscape changed again as the trees thinned out, the land flattened and scrub brush gave leeway to hardy mountain grasses to grow knee high, here and there late wild flowers still sported their blooms.

Nemo A534's pace increased a bit as the second hour walking along this paved path came to a close and as they rounded a curve Spock was greeted with a fat, wooden round fence post weathered from the hard mountain seasons standing about thirty feet from the edge of the road. The thick post stood at a corner and leading from it to the north and to the west was a long line of tightly strung, meshed metal fence and two runs of barbed wire strung above. As Spock walked along side the fence, because Nemo A534 stepped away from the road into the grass to pace the fence line, he counted that approximately every ten feet another round, wooden fence post was sunk into the ground and the mesh and barbed wire nailed into pace in the discolored wood.

The other side of the fence the grasses were considerably shorter, a little over a foot tall instead of the grass that's highest tips and brushes of wild wheat brushed at his thigh and hip.

Nemo A534's pace quickened a bit as the ground sloped, the fence and post going along with it and Spock's pace stayed even, following in the narrow path the one eyed dog cut into the grass.

The ground evened sharply and suddenly as Spock stepped out of the grass on the German Shepherd's heels onto a lead off from the paved street.

This stretch of road was made of sandy, hard packed earth, crushed rock and small pebbles. The earth shifted slightly and crunched under Spock's weight. The road was wide enough for a personal vehicle to pass with a fair amount of room for an individual on foot… or horseback… to move along side. Two shallow ruts off to the left of the road were partially filled with the run off of the recent rain storm and Nemo A534 made a side trip to dip his head and lap several mouthfuls from a puddle.

Along both sides of the dirt packed road were the long wild, grasses, growing only about knee high in the shade of an irregular line of native trees and underbrush. On his left side the fence had taken a sharp turn to follow along the side of the road and on the other was a thick line of trees that fell back along the slight slope in the thicker underbrush and more abundant native trees.

The shade of the trees sent a chill through Spock the settled deep and sent twitches racing up and down his muscles. The half-Vulcan started down the dirt packed road, crunching quietly with each step and not waiting for the one eyed dog, knowing that the movement could cause enough friction to warm him.

His pace was slow and when he heard the soft, awkward steps of the German Shepherd he stopped and waited for the dog to take the slow lead again.

Nemo A534 walked quietly along, taking Spock deeper under the mottled shadow of the tree tops, around the slight curves of the dirt road, following the slope up and down. The fence line on his right following dutifully and after fifteen minutes of steady, slow walking it was joined on the left by a twin. The metal mesh fence and double line of barbed wire stretched and nailed between round, wooden fence posts. The land beyond the left fence had more trees than the one on the left but still sported shorter grasses.

Their path continued with only the rustle of vegetation, their steps crunching in the road and the sound of their breathing and heartbeats.

The sound of erratic thunder rushed up on Spock's back. He whirled to the left, dropping his stance to a defensive position and put himself between Nemo A534 and the rush of chorused thunder behind them. The dog had defended Spock more than once, saved his life even. He was not going to allow the animal, wounded and in pain, to fall victim to the assault.

Behind the fence line three, large horses galloped up to the fence with flying hooves and kicked tufts of dirt and grass.

The largest would have easily been taller than Spock at the shoulder, the shortest a little under Spock's collar height.

The largest, in the lead, was a massive mare, thick bones and heavily muscles chording and flexing under the skin and pelt of grey, white and black flecks the meshed into a dappled shade of grey blue roan; legs, tail, mane and nose darkened to almost black.

The second largest was another mare, slightly slimmer and sleeker than the leader was a dark, chestnut brown; three of the four legs were sporting tall socks of white and a wide blaze of white down the bridge of her nose.

The last and smallest of the group was a paler, slightly white roaned chestnut mare that had no white markings on her at all.

Along the side of each horse's throat was a series of numbers and letters, following the arch of their necks and marked in their skin by a process called freeze branding, liquid nitrogen was laid along the muscle, killing the skin underneath and turning the hair white for the span of their natural life. Spock noticed that on each horse's left shoulder just above the leg was a second, freeze brand. It was in the shape of a stylized cloud over the interlinked letters NSR.

The three horses snorted, blowing loudly through their flared nostrils and their head's thrown up and ears pricked forward.

The blue roan leader shook her head and slid up to the fence. She eyed Spock for a moment, her nose swung towards him and she sucked in a deep breath, scenting him from other the side of the fence before swinging her nose towards Nemo A534 and whinnied shrilly.

Nemo A534 had already swung around and was carefully picking his way through the long grass up to the fence and shoved his nose through a square of the mesh until he could not push forward anymore. The blue mare dropped her head and brushed her nose against his, snorting and breathing the same air. Spock listened with some interest as the mare let out a series of soft, low nickers and the dog whined and clicked his teeth stiffly.

The two chestnuts mares waited patiently until the blue roan side stepped before they dropped their noses to share breath with the dog. While the two chestnuts were greeting Nemo A534 the large blue roan locked her eyes on Spock. She nickered and lifted her head high before swinging her head down until her chin touched her chest. She repeated the same move, lifting then swinging her head to touch her chest.

One foreleg pawed at the grass and she snorted loudly.

Spock watched the roll of muscle and twist and fly of mane. Something deep in his stomach loosened slightly.

The whispered language had found him again, coming in its raw and feral form of the language chanted and hummed from the horse. The foreign words trickled off the mare and tickled across Spock's ears and floated just over his skin, not touching but gently probing, trying find a give in Spock to seep in and take root the way that it had in Jim.

It could find not place suitable to thread in and hung tauntingly above his flesh.

Spock watched, trying to understand what the horse was saying. Spock cocked his head slightly, watching the head swing down until the chin touched chest and the foreleg pawed at the grass. The whispers threading and hovering over Spock's skin, just gently taunting and pushing at him. It reached a fever pitch and the pressing weight centered on his chest and got heavier, pushing at Spock's weakened control. The rolling timber thundered and rattled, pounding almost painfully against Spock's will, mind and body. The pressure was shortening his breath, instead of cold a new heat rushed into his veins, rising higher than a Vulcan's natural body temperature, his heartbeat increased then became erratic, fluttering and jerking in his lower abdomen.

The cold air burned as it rushed into his lungs in short gasps that couldn't fill them. The whispered slammed into him, washing him completely in the rush the whispers turned into a silent roar thundering in his ears and slamming into him from all angles.

His throat constricted and he panted, a shiver coursing through him.

Suddenly and violently his control cracked, a hairline fissure the opened a fraction and hissed. Spock nearly fell to his knees give out as the emotions rushed unchecked towards the fissure. But they were pushed back and tamed when something rushed in, a fin silver thread slid through the crack weaving itself into Spock's soul and tying itself into place in a bond that would not break under force or coaxing. The roaring rush of unspoken language narrowed and in the pulsing, chanting mass a single coherent idea flooded through the half-Vulcan:

_COME_

It pressed into Spock from the inside, choking him, pounding and lashing out at him mercilessly. The First Officer didn't hesitate and took a single solid step towards the blue roan mare.

The pressure eased and the roar of silent language subsided instantly, draining out and sealing closed the fissure in Spock's control as it abated and fell away, dropping back to the quiet hum and chatter that drummed just under Jim's skin of barely tamed ferality.

It lapped at him gently now, almost a soothing coaxing presence after the violence and power that had come before it, as if apologetic for its actions.

It left him, hovering again just over his skin in a non-threatening haze, detaching and leaving Spock with only the singular thread woven tightly into his core. It pulsed; the pressure, sound, word both spoken and silence, image, ideal, meditation… the emotion of it pooled low in his core and hummed quietly like a living thing:

_COME_

Spock did not consciously remember weaving his way through the grass to press close to the fence in front of the blue roan mare, but with each step the pressure eased until it was only a light comfortable reminder of its existence. He stood patiently as the mare lifted her head high and lightly over the top of the barbed wire and extended her nose towards Spock.

She did not press into his space, sensing the still raw inner turmoil and the now unbalanced weight of Spock's core as the fever bled out of him to allow the cold to flow back into place. The blue roan mare gave him enough room that it was clear she respected Spock's space and gently dipped her flared nostrils low to suck the air around the line of Spock's throat through the delicate, folds of sensory flesh inside her muzzle.

When she breathed out the wash of moist warm are was almost welcome across his skin.

The mare sniffed lightly, bending the string of barbed wire under her throat to suck in and breathe out around Spock's sternum, her ears twitched and swiveled, catching the smallest sounds around them.

Cautiously and gingerly Spock extended his hand, it lighted on the curve of the mare's jaw, his fingers brushing the smooth, short fur, his thumb rubbed across the pelted flesh before the mare lifted her head away from his touch and moved align her face with his, her nose almost touching his and the blue roan deliberately sucked in a deep breath and exhaled it into Spock's face.

The smell of wild grass and sweet hay, animal sweat, honey and something undeniably earthly washed over the First Officer's face and into his nose. The silver thread knotted in his core jerked and tightened. Spock blinked and studied the mare for a moment, who seemed to have fixed him with an expectant look.

Spock backed away, half turning and weaving his way back to the dirt packed road and started back up its path, the blue roan pinned her ears and whinnied loudly after him, snorting and blowing through her nose. Spock didn't look back over his shoulder and only checked his pace when heard the uneven, pained steps of Nemo A534 rushing to catch up then maneuver to the lead again. The dog looked at him back over his shoulder and if Spock hadn't known better the one eyed Shepherd almost looked disappointed before turning his attention back to their trail.

The dirt path wove on, from time to time Spock would cast his eyes towards the opposing fence posts, once or twice catching sight of living things behind them.

A few more horses, that lifted their heads and watched but did not rush up to the fence as the blue roan and her small band had.

A trio of large, whitetail deer that went rigid at the sight of him before whirling and bounding away flagging their tails.

A fox dashed wildly across their path, not bothering to look at them to see if Nemo A534 was giving chase to kill the smaller canine.

The dirt packed road curved and rose before suddenly widening and the fence lines and trees gave way to a massive sweep of mountain prairie. The dirt track led right up to a massive ranch home settled deeply into the slope of the natural earth.

It reminded Spock slightly of San Sierra Stables.

The structure was two stories tall, the sloped and peaked roof covered in thick, terra cotta colored shingles. The walls had a base of natural stone, cemented and fitted into place to about waist height before the rounded sides of logs notched into place took over. Each widow was massive and thrown open to the cool mountain air. A wide wraparound porch circled out of Spock's sight on both sides of the ranch home, the supports of the over hang thick, natural timbers that looked like they had been just cut from the surrounding forest and stripped of their bark, the railing around the porch was made of a similar fashion. Along the porch line was a narrow strip of turned earth that still sported a few, yellowing plants from a garden that looked as if it might have been made entirely of wild flowers.

Standing independent of the main house was a garage made of the same hewn logs and stone base, two massive doors were rolled open to display a wall of tools and shelving pressed up against a wall. Parked outside the open doors, in drive of packed earth and crushed rock, was an antique pickup truck. Massive, taller than the top of Spock's head by a foot and a half, it's rubber tires were almost hip high and the paint was a gritted sand like color. It looked to be circa late twenty-first century, twenty-fifteen or twenty-twenty or so. A large, silver emblem welded to the front fender declared it a Dodge Big Horn, Ram 2500 and the stylized design of a big horn sheep. Next to the truck was a slanted trailer that could comfortably haul four horses. It's paint was the same gritted sand and it sported a large emblem the same design as the freeze brand on the horses' shoulders. The stylized cloud and NRS enter locked letters, as well as a contact information.

As Spock and Nemo A534 neared the ranch home Spock could see another massive structure that looked identical to the horse stable of San Sierra in California, save that it was the same stripped logs and cemented stone work. The giant, double doors of the stable where thrown open but Spock could not see in passed the shadow within.

All around the three buildings were a continuation of the mesh wire, double barbed wire and wooden post fence, it twisted and turned into square paddocks, round pens and small graze pens before giving way to a rolling stretch of wild grass pasture. Here and there it was broken up my large pipe metal gates painted chocolate brown.

A few dozen yards out from the ranch home was a large, thin slab of stone sunk into the ground that sported the words:

**Native Sky Ranch**

**124 Flathead Road**

**Lost Horse Creek, Montana 59829**

**406. 258.2658**

Spock barely controlled the breath that threatened to slip out as a sigh of relief. Native Sky Ranch. He was on its land, at its door step. Jim Kirk was here, somewhere close. Spock quietly and internally hoped that his captain was no worse in mind and body than Spock had last seen him.

Nemo A534 led Spock up to the bottom steps of the stone and log home before his ears suddenly threw forward, head cocking and the one eyed dog galloped off, dashing around the corner of the ranch home so fast Spock nearly missed it. The half-Vulcan looked after the animal before carefully climbing the steps, pushing his traveling duffle from its normal place at his hip around to his back and out of the way.

Spock glanced sideways along the porch and noted several pieces of oversized and low to the ground furniture that seemed to be made of hewn logs and thick cushions of patterned fabric.

Spock crossed the width of the porch, brushing dust from his traveling clothes up to a massive set of double doors. The secure oaken structure were swung back and open into the shadow of the front hall and a set of screen and wood doors stood closed in their place. Spock glanced to both sides of the screen doors and fining no key pad turned his hand and rapped his knuckles sharply across the wood frame of one screen door then stepped back, folding his hands at the small of his back and collecting himself.

A few moments passed before a familiar click of nails echoed from the confines of the ranch home. From a left side open door way stepped a massive German Shepherd, even larger than Nemo A534 and similar in all aspects except this dog was solid white with two large blue eyes. The dog seemed to move with a stiffness and some difficulty but his ears were pricked forward and eyes wide and watching.

On the white Sherpherd's heels walked a petite human female, she was easily shorter than Spock by a head and a half, her slim and nearly delicate frame accented by a heart shaped face and cinnamon colored hair that sported a few streaks of silver. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a white tee shirt, a sage green flannel shirt hung unbuttoned off her shoulders and rolled up to her elbows.

Her feet were bare and padded nearly silent on the hardwood floors as she approached, the soft clink of metal and glass rose from her wrists and throat were strings of beads of natural earth tones hung securely.

The petite female peered at him through the screen as she flipped a catch and pushed one of the screens open, bracing it there with her right hip and leg, settling her hands on her hips and with a friendly and slightly confused look on her face looked at Spock expectantly. The white Shepherd sat stiffly down next to her.

The woman had sea foam grey eyes, the same color Jim's eyes took in the heat of emotion.

"Good morning, madam. I hope that I have not intruded on your morning ritual but I request an audience with Captain James T. Kirk. I have been informed that his presence is here." Spock said calmly.

Halfway through his monologue the girl's face took on a surprised, slightly wide eyed appearance. Then it changed rapidly to confusion, agitation and an unsettled tension. Her brows knit together and her head cocked as if she was trying to understand what he said. At the end of his request she remained silent, looking warily at Spock and casting her eyes around him as if looking for a way out or help.

Spock waited a moment until her troubled eyes set back on him. "Madam, if you please. I am a member of Captain Kirk's crew on the _Enterprise_. It's imperative that I speak with him."

The emotions deepened in her face but she remained silent. Spock felt his tension ratchet up and string tightly between his shoulders, the stress and strain of his long trek here lapped at him. He's given blood and sweat to get here only to be mocked and kept away from his final goal by a small human female.

The frayed threads of Spock's control and emotions started to unravel.

"Madam, I must insist you desist this gross display of mockery and tell me where Captain Kirk is immediately."

The woman looked on at Spock with a strained air of misunderstanding and shook her head slightly.

"Madam, if I must I will use force-"

"Spock!"

_Jim._

The young captain's voice hummed and churned in his stomach, threading up to tangle with the silver thread knotted in Spock's core. The First Officer half turned as Jim Kirk and Nemo A534 bounded up the steps towards them. Jim was dressed similar to the woman but sported a red plaid flannel over a black shirt and a pair of scarred working boots.

"Spock. What're you doing here?" Jim asked quickly, his blue eyes flashed up and down, taking in Spock's appearance quickly and looking for injuries. As he spoke Jim's hands twisted and moved, fingers twitching and drawing designs in the air.

"Captain, this civilian was trying to avert me from your presence when I explicitly asked to speak with you." Spock said coolly and glared at the woman as she stepped around to stand at Spock's side to watch him and Jim at the same time.

Evidently Jim had come to know Spock well enough that he could tell when the half-Vulcan was struggling to remain calm and in control. He glanced at the woman who made a few twists of her fingers and wrists before looking back to Spock.

"Spock. Relax, she wasn't trying to keep you away from me." More shifting and drawing with Jim's hands in the air.

"She refused to speak to me."

"She couldn't understand you." Jim's hands moved and twisted with each word. "Calm down Spock."

"Captain I am calm, if she is only fluent in a different language then she should have made it known, I am master of a high number of languages. I believe that she was trying to dissuade me from finding you. A breakdown of communications through language is no excuse."

"No, Spock. I mean she couldn't hear you." Jim's hands continued to move, twisting and carving in the air.

"Volume and language-"

"No! Spock! She can't _hear_!" Jim nearly shouted, exasperated and his hands still making designs with each word from his lips. "It has nothing to do with volume. She couldn't read your lips. She _literally_ couldn't hear you."

Spock's eyebrows raised and he cast a glance at the woman who on catching his eye nodded earnestly. Spock studied her then Jim and looked back on their conversation.

The hands. All the twitches and designs and movements of their hands. It was some form of communication through signal and symbol.

Jim sighed as the First Officer caught his eye and as he spoke his hands continued to sign.

"She can't hear, Spock. Cody's deaf.

* * *

**A/N: Alright so yeah. This was practically two chapters in one, hope you guys aren't scared off by the size of it. **

**And yup: Cody Chicalato is A) a CHICK and B) stone deaf. **

**Some Lakota, only a little here:**

**Chicalato – Blue Colt**

**I'm really tempted to write 'The Wild Adventures of First Officer Spock and Nemo A534'… if I did it would be from Nemo A534's POV and you would hear his inner voice the whole time… that might be fun…**

**Anyway. Start of the multichapter! Yay! Enjoy! R&R and I'll get started on the next chappy… tomorrow… **


	2. Chapter 2

**Pre-Spirk/Spirk: Summary: Spock said it all stiffly; it was hard to relate to another that he was less than stable, less than in complete control.**

* * *

**Lost Horse Creek, Montana**

"**When you are lonely, let me be your companion. When you are tired, let me carry the load. When you need to learn, let me teach you… after all, I am your horse."**

**-Unknown**

* * *

**Chapter Two: Pedigree**

"**It's not your blue blood, youre pedigree or your college degree. It's what you do with your life that counts."**

**-Millard Fuller**

**…**

_**Native Sky Ranch**_

_**124 Flathead Road,**_

_**Lost Horse Creek, Bitterroot Mountain Range, County, Montana**_

_**Stardate: 2260**_

_**September 18**_

_**0945 Hours**_

"Illogical."

Jim's hands stilled for the first time, like someone taking a breath after a long winded speech. It was only a heartbeat before they snapped back into action. Weaving words and speaking in a voiceless language that Spock had never encountered before.

This new language of signs, the unspoken whispers of a barely feral, ancient tongue that bubbled under Jim's skin and flowed raw off horses… when had Jim Kirk become a master of languages without voices…

"What do you mean 'illogical'?" Jim asked, his hands signing each word.

"Disabilities such as deafness are non-existent among civilized human society. The last reported case of medical deafness, circa Stardate 2173, was during the still developmental stages of the Villhurt Pre-Natal Exams, the now mandatory series of tests that isolate and correct such flaws invetro. Accidental deafness is easily restored through minor noninvasive surgery. Modern medicine does not allow for deafness in the human race." Spock straightened and folded his hands behind his back, higher than normal along his spine and hindered by the traveler's duffle hung from his shoulder.

Jim had gone very still. The petite woman, Cody Chicalato, cast a silent look between them; her eyebrows raised. She wove a few words with her hands but Jim ignored her.

The young captain's hands lifted and carded into his hair, digging in at his temples.

"Wait… wait, what?"

"Furthermore how do you explain her response to my summons at the door? I knocked. If she truly is deaf then there should have been no response at all. There fore your assessment is illogical. By both demonstration and medical fact she cannot be deaf."

"Cannot be deaf." Jim responded, his voice flat and emotionless.

Internally, Spock flinched and mentally backtracked, reliving the words he'd just cast out towards the young man. Spock knew, and hoped that Jim knew, that the words were fact. Not meant to cause intentional aggravation to what Spock knew was a still unsettled young man.

But if Jim was being manipulated and lied to Spock would put an end to it.

"Bones took this better than you."

Spock fiercely denied that the coolly spoken statement felt like a barb.

Before the First Officer could respond, Cody snapped her fingers and Jim's attention instantly whipped to her. Completely focused and attentive.

Cody's hands twisted and drew in the air before settling on her hips. Spock resisted the urge to ask for a translation.

Jim's hands started to move as he spoke. "He doesn't think you can be deaf."

Cody breathed out loudly through her nose and rolled her eyes at Jim, her hands made a short string of signs that didn't end before Jim cut her off with his voice and own string of signs. The movement of his fingers and wrists sharp and fast, almost harsh. As if he was shouting in signs while his voice stayed low and calm.

"I know you deal with it all the time. Doesn't matter._ I'm_ sick of it."

Cody's hands flashed, signing smoothly and evenly when Jim's hands seemed almost jerky.

"I'm not freaking out." Jim's signing seemed to have taken on a sharper edge.

Cody signed back her response.

"Because this is different!" Jim's voice rose even as his hands jerked and twisted in obvious anger.

Cody made a single, calm design with her hands.

Jim blinked and stilled again. "Why?" He asked… or repeated. He'd translated the single sign in his repition in speech, his hands without animation.

Cody nodded, reading Jim's lips instead of his hands.

Jim paused and in his hesitation Cody wove a new string of signs for him to read off the backs of her hands and curve of her palms.

Jim's reaction to this silent testimony caused an ugly tightening in Spock's gut and his teeth ground together. Now more than ever he wanted this sherade to end. The offending, petite woman needed to break her silence.

Jim's chest collapsed, tension and air flowing out of him in a single shuddering breath. The young captain even seemed to deflated in size, he shut his eyes and mumbled something under his breath that even Spock's sharp hearing couldn't pick up but the undertone of foreign words.

Jim shook his head, his short, blonde hair shagging in the movement before calloused hands slid into the strands and brushed them haphazardly back. While Jim did not relax he'd obviously calmed outwardly and internally.

Cody started to make a string of signs and Jim held up his hands in a placating way.

"Alright, alright… I get it." He sighed, signing the last three words smoothly and much slower than he had only seconds before. The young captain hesitated before looking to his First Officer.

"Spock, listen… it's had to believe I know-"

"It's an impossibility Jim. Medicine does not allow for it. Doctor McCoy could vouch similarly." Spock seized the chance to defend himself, the tension across his shoulders ratcheting even tighter.

"Spock, impossibilities and documentation and all that other medicinal bullshit doesn't change the fact that Cody's deaf." Jim returned, his hands taking on turning his words into signs.

Spock felt a gentle tug on his sleeve and barely restrained himself from jerking away from Cody's hand. He narrowed his eyes and fixed the petite woman with a sharp look. Before he could peak or pull his attention away Cody's hands started too form the fluid, sweeps and carvings of signs in the air.

Jim's voice made Spock look in his direction once as the young captain lent his speech to the signs, translating as Cody communicated.

"'_I was born deaf. There was something wrong with the wiring in my brain but fixing it would have killed me. My parents didn't like it but there had been deaf warriors in our tribe's history before and let it be. Since I was ten every time a doctor catches wind about me there is a surgery offer thrown on the table. I always refuse.'_"

"The illogical nature of this situation did not seem able to deepen and yet it has."

As soon as Spock spoke Jim's hands snapped into movement, drawing the signs for Spock's words so Cody could understand. Spock found the arrangement awkward and undesirable. In all his time and interaction before and during his enlistment in Starfleet Spock had never needed a translator, he had always been able to master a language in a few days time. To have to stand aside and wait for his words to reach the object of his conversation and to wait for a response was a blow to the pride that the half-Vulcan refused himself.

But he pressed on, his voice tightening marginally as Jim's hands continued to move. "If these statements are true then why refuse the medical procedure that would make your life whole and attribute to your species in stead of a disfigured existence."

When Jim's hands stilled a slight, almost saddened smile crossed Cody's lips and she made a few short signs to Jim, who promptly returned in silent sign.

"Jim-"

"She asked what your pedigree was, Spock. I told her Vulcan and human." Jim said out loud as Cody started to sign again. Jim waited a minute until Cody stopped signing before looking at Spock and paraphrasing what she had communicated instead of a direct translation.

"She said that if it was more convenient and easier for your nature that someone offered to surgically change your genetic makeup to entirely human, would you?"

"No." Spock replied instantly, his breath almost catching in a bubble in his throat as he spoke and Jim signed the response in a sharp, harsh movement that betrayed the emotion behind it.

Jim and Cody affixed him with quiet and contemplative looks, allowing the half-Vulcan to process what had been laid out before and prompted from him.

Spock dipped his head, casting his eyes downwards as he spoke next.

"Jim, I believe I have developed a bad habit of underestimating and judging the company you keep prematurely and without adequate observation and interaction. My behavior has been unfounded and illogical."

"I'll chalk it up to you being cranky." Jim assured. "You look like Hell, are you alright?"

"My status is less than optimal. I believe I have been 'through an ordeal', in common human terminology."

"Yeah, looks like." Jim carefully reached out a lifted Spock's left hand to inspect the slightly dirt smudged bandage wrapped around his wrist. The First Officer tensed, allowing Jim to turn his hand over and look the wound over entirely. The press of flesh on flesh sent an unnerving hum lapping up Spock's arm. He faintly recognized the whispered chattered of the ancient language that was a constant thrum under Jim's skin. Spock compared it to the raw ferality of it that he'd encountered with the blue roan mare. The thin thread tied into his core pulsed in recognition as Spock felt the faint and clouded brush of Jim's mind near his. The young captain either unaware or uncaring of Spock's nature as a touch telepath. It did not help the ginger and reverent way Jim handled him. The young man's touch was feather light and gentle, as if he felt or knew that Spock was liable to bolt.

It occurred to Spock that their positions had turned, at least for the moment. Instead of Spock treading lightly and gently coaxing Jim into relaxing from a seemingly eternal struggle to run Jim was the one trying to sooth and assure Spock from reacting.

"Your skin's kind of cool Spock." Jim observed with a tinge of concern. The half-Vulcan repressed a shudder as the reminder brought back the slow growing ice around his core, the sluggish cold cutting into him.

"My biology requires a warmer temperature than Montana is offering climate wise at the moment."

Jim made a gruff noise of disapproval.

Cody stood aside and watched the interaction silently, her eyebrows raised, she was able to read Jim's lips and get his half of the conversation but was otherwise left out. She waited until Jim let go of Spock's wrist before drawing a few signs in the air to get attention and make a suggestion.

Jim sighed, letting air out of his chest slowly and with a kind of congestion that sounded like exhaustion manifested.

"Cody wants to clean you and Nemo A534 up a little, get something in your stomachs then you can kip out in one of the guest rooms."

After he spoke Cody continued another string of signs and hesitated for Jim to relay them.

"If that's what you want."

Spock passed a look between Cody and Jim, the young captain seemed to easily read the expression though Spock was sure it had been a mask of neutrality.

"Cody's not in the habit of bending the nature and will of another creature to fit her wants." Jim explained. "You can refuse if you want."

"I see no reason not to accept the course of events with only the added prospect of a longer, more in dept discussion after I have had adequate time to meditate and collect myself."

Spock said it all stiffly; it was hard to relate to another that he was less than stable, less than in complete control. Jim cast a look at Spock for the admission but said nothing, relaying Spock's words to Cody, who agreed with a nod and a slight smile.

"Jim."

The young man turned his attention fully to the half-Vulcan.

"I have observed that… Cody responses to you even at times when you are not…"

"Signing?"

"Yes. And as you said she could not understand me when I spoke to her alone."

"She can't read your lips, Spock. The muscles of your face don't move enough for her to understand what you're saying."

Spock though for a moment. If he was to believe that Cody was in fact deaf then the logic of Jim's explanation made sense. "Very well."

"And Canteska heard you knock."

Spock raised and eyebrow and Jim indicated the albino German Shepherd still sitting in the open doorway.

"Canteska heard you and alerted Cody to come to the door. That's why she came when you knocked."

Spock hesitated a moment before thinking back on the behavior of Nemo A534, who at the moment was sitting to the side, weight off his injured leg and head hanging.

"That is plausible." Spock agreed again.

"Trust me on this, Spock. Cody's deaf. No doubt about it."

Trust.

A majorly one sided issue between them. Jim had turned over his trust to Spock, a 'different kind of trust' McCoy had said at one point. It had been done carefully and slowly, tentative of Spock's reaction. Jim was offering him a chance to return some of that trust.

Spock only nodded in response and felt the fledgling bond between them strengthen slightly when Jim offered a small smile in return.

Spock nearly flinched when a small, but strong hand slid across his shoulder and under the strap of his traveling duffle and lifted it effortlessly from his collar. Cody shrugged the weight on to her own shoulder and stepped back to hold the screen door open wider for Spock and Jim to pass through first.

The latter turned and carefully scooped his hands under Nemo A534's stomach and chest. Jim lifted the dog easily up into his arms and preceded Spock into the ranch home. The albino German Shepherd pushing awkwardly to his feet and trotting in a head of them.

Spock hesitated to show Cody his back but followed dutifully on Jim's heels into the front hall of the ranch home, then through the left open doorway of the hall. The screen swung shut with a crack as Cody brought up the rear lugging Spock's duffle.

The half-Vulcan took the time to look around, casting his eyes over furniture and ornamentation on selves, walls and tables.

The raw wood of the log home invaded inwards. The flooring was scarred and scratched hardwood, broken up only by the small, circular heads of nails and the edges of rugs.

The room directly off the main hall must have been a den or common room. A large plush sofa and two plush loveseats of a dusty red suede formed a curve around a large, low to the floor coffee table made of stained hardwood and the main feature of the room a massive, pane of solid glass that looked out on the drive and front yard. The room opened again into an even larger doorless frame, next to it was a set of stairs and a low, wooden railing that led up to the second floor and on the far side of the stairs was a short hall that led deeper into the gut of the ranch home's first floor. Pushed against the wall of the stairs was a narrow, long table of similar structure to the coffee table. It sported a large, squat terra cotta pot and singular, fat barrel cactus, a large metal sculpture molded into a Native American rider and his pony in the low headed, mourning pose commonly known as 'End of the Trail' and series of small metal dishes that cradled rounded honey colored candles. Stretched out under the three plush seats the coffee table was a floor rug that had an alternating patter of brown, white and the same russet color of the furniture.

Spock felt his eyes widen slightly at the far wall of the room. The wall was floor to ceiling a unit of shelves that supported a small library of hard backed books. The spines of all heights and widths, some marked with fine black, silver or gold lettering of titles and authors. The multitude of colors created a mosaic that filled the entire wall. The words 'horse' and 'native' and 'war' leapt out at Spock a number of times as he did a quick sweep of the seemingly pristine collection of antique books.

Very suddenly the comparatively small collection Jim kept with him made sense.

The three other caramel colored walls were decorated with bits of horse tack. Bridles and bits hung decoratively along side large framed photographs.

Most of the photographs were monochromatic shades of black, white and gray. Some were cracked and fading with age and others were sleek and glossy as if taken within the last few weeks. Which Spock found nearly impossible to comprehend as the art of still frame photography had been a dead practice as nearly as long as books had been.

So, logically, from experience and observation of the behavior and habits of Jim and those he kept company, it was very possible that the photographs were taken within the last few weeks.

Most of the framed pictures sported the themes of horses, some standing as if wild and others tacked and waiting patiently next to a rider, male or female. A few had the classic images of cowboys and a few others the images of Native American's, young and old, sporting ceremonial dress. Still other photographs were landscapes, some rolling desert and others sharp edges of mountains and plateau prairies.

Smaller photographs in small, standing frames dotted the shelves of books, the faces of strangers looked out with grins and bright eyes from next to trucks and horses and fences lines.

There was a fair number of photographs hung on the walls and standing freely, enough so that Spock was certain the theme would continue throughout the house. A glance up the stairs and down the hall next to them as he passed them confirmed his theory as a series of frames and tack was hung along the wall to the top of the staircase and down to the end of the short hallway.

Spock followed on the heels of Jim and Canteska as the path moved through the den into a large airy room that could only be a kitchen.

The floor was hewn terra cotta stone tiles. The line of waist high cabinets and hung cupboards of honey colored wood were accented and topped with the same red brown stone. A stainless steel stink and faucet was sunk under a large window over looking the side yard. Set into the cabinets below was a large square of stainless steel that sported a series of buttons across a black strip at the top. On section of the counter top was a large slab of the same silver metal, sporting four large burners and below the stovetop was the metal and glass door of an oven. Set into the far wall was another doorway. The heavy, wide oaken door swung open and the screen door closed. Next to the door a small alcove like room was occupied on one side by two large, square appliances, wicker baskets full of clothing to launder and along the other wall a collection of muddy boots, coats of all different weights, sizes and uses hung on a line of rusted metal hooks and a top shelf that was piled with baseball caps and the classic shapes of Stetson cowboy hats.

The only fixtures in the room was a large, scarred wooden table. It's honey colored surface marred by scratches, gouges and stains. Four matching chairs were pulled into place on each side and a three legged stool was pushed against the wall next to it. A few feet away from the table was a refrigeration unit of the same stainless steel that was six feet tall, nearly thee feet wide and boasted a set of double doors.

The lingering scent of cooked food, dust, sweat both human and animal and spiced honey hung in the air.

All around the room were little ceramic pots housed small growing plants, some looked like herbs and other just aesthetically pleasing. The wall above the table was hung with a piece of decorative art that looked like rusted metal cut into the shape of galloping horses and next to it was a large, framed map of Montana. A few slips of paper scribbled with hand writing were anchored to the doors of the refrigeration unit with magnets. In a far corner was a large stainless steel bowl that was filled to the brim with water and around it four other bowls that were empty.

Next to the bowls was a large, plump pillow that was tan on the bottom and the top a tough fabric with a woven design of russet, brown and cream.

Draped across the plump pillow was a plump dog. The animal's head shot up as Spock entered the room and let out a sharp bark.

"Quit." Jim snapped at the dog and it's head dropped back to it's paws.

This dog was considerably smaller than Canteska and Nemo A534. It couldn't have stood much taller than a foot on it's short legs, a long, low to the ground body was made of thick muscle. A large head with even larger ears sported inquisitive and wide brown eyes. The dogs coat was tawny gold with marking of white across its throat, legs, underbelly and narrow muzzle. The animal was missing a tail entirely.

This dog had the same leather collar of the other two dogs and plate of identification metal screwed into place.

Spock refrained from asking about the squat animal and instead placed his good hand lightly on the thick ruff fur of Nemo A534's neck as Jim ducked over to a cabinet, opened it and pulled out a large wooden box. He hefted the object as if it weighted a considerable amount then fluidly stood and moved back to the table. He set the box own in a small open space near Nemo A534's tail and flipped it open to reveal the contents of the box were entirely medical. Thick rolls of gauze and cloth bandaging. An assorted number of jars and bottles filled with pills, colored liquids or pastes. There was an interchangeable hypospray but next to it was an assortment of syringes and needles. A small clear container was occupied by a roll of surgical thread and several needles of varying size.

Jim ducked back across the kitchen to pull a large ceramic bowl down from a shelf and filled it in the sink with steaming water and grabbed a small towel off the counter top next to the sink before striding back to Spock and injured dog's side.

"Nemo A534 was seen by a certified veterinarian in Hamilton." Spock made the statement almost half heartedly.

"No doubt." Jim agreed without looking at the First Officer. "Still want to get a good look at it."

Spock hesitated before speaking again. "I'm afraid I was unable to administer adequate care and handling while Nemo A534 was in my possession. I am sorry to both you and the animal for that incompetence."

Jim flicked his eyes up when Spock mentioned the dog in the apology. He didn't smile but straightened up and lightly laid a hand over Spock's shoulder, he gave a slight squeeze and sent a new ripple of humming energy through the layer of clothing to pool over the First Officer's skin. Spock waited for the young captain to weave some compassionate and assuring lie about Nemo A534's condition not being as terrible as Spock thought it was or that Spock had done the best he was able.

"Thanks, Spock." Jim said quietly before pulling his hand back. Spock cocked his head and lifted an eyebrow but before he could inquire the response Jim was shoved back by a small, sure hand. Spock's duffle was slung unceremoniously over Jim's shoulder as Cody pushed him out of the way and towards the archway back to the den. Her hands flew in a few drawn signs before she nudged Spock's hand away from Nemo A534's throat, stroked the dog once and set to work, soaking the cloth in hot water and gently wiping away the orange burn salve spread over the dog's injury.

"C'mon." Jim gently coaxed Spock away from the petite woman and led Spock from the room to a sharp turn down the short hall, passed framed photographs and tack, to the first door. It was slight a jar and Jim pushed it open slightly.

"My bathroom." Jim explained when gave a slight, one shouldered shrug. "Technically it's the guest bathroom but it's just me and Cody and the animals up here most of the time so I take it over."

Jim stood back to allow Spock to investigate before moving away to collect a few items from a narrow closet a little further down the hall.

The room was large enough for two adults to maneuver easily. The floor and most of the walls were tiled with a mosaic of terra cotta, red and coffee ceramic squares. The painted stucco wall was caramel colored. A large mirror was mounted over a short counter top of terra cotta stone and a red ceramic sink and faucet. The counter had a dark, hardwood base that sported two cabinet doors at the height of Spock's waist. Next to the sink and counter was a toilet made of red dyed porcelain. The same color and material extended to a large, deep tub occupying the far wall, an opaque curtain was drawn back to show off the silver faucet and showerhead mounted on the wall. A shelf hung opposite the showerhead was laden with bars of soap, bottles of shampoo, wash cloths and spongy loofas.

There was a wicker waste basket in one corner and next to it a larger, open wicker basket that had a pile of dirty clothes.

A small red rug was stretched across the tiled floor and russet towels were draped over a slim, silver rack mounted on the wall. An assortment of toothpaste and brushes, a razor, brush, bar of red soap and a few other items for hygienic use were set up around the edge of the sink bowl. Mounted on the wall over the towel rack was a single, black and white photograph that was a foot an a half tall and three feet wide. It sported a picture of a pool of water and a pebbly beach but in the pool was a single horse, chest deep and caught mid splash. The edges of the glass mirror were occupied by small snapshots and stuck with some kind of temporary adhesive. A few of the small photographs were color.

The images of Nemo A534 and another black and silver German Shepherd were predominant, as well as a couple of ones centered around horses. Spock was a little surprised to see a few of members of Jim's crew aboard the _Enterprise_. There was one that was hard to decipher that looked as if Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott had taken a photograph of himself with it nose pressed against the lens. In another Ensign Chekov Pavel Andreovitch and Lieutenant Hikaru Sulu grinned from over the bridge navigation and pilot consol. A line of red shirt Security members posed over the edge of a catwalk in the engine deck, the photograph looked as if it had been taken from the floor below. A similar posed picture had been taken of the collected medical staff in the sickbay. A photograph of Doctor Leonard McCoy in the midst of scrubbing up for surgery and had a look on his face that it was clear the photographer was not supposed to be there to take the picture. There was a quiet and candid photograph of Lieutenant Nyota Uhura and surprising Spock himself as the pair poured over a datapad in an observation room. Spock had no memory of the picture being taken by anyone. Spock studied the assortment of personal snapshots stuck to the mirror, his eyes continuing to move back to the one of himself and Uhura as well as cast his eyes over the small room. The half-Vulcan was too used to the small confines of a sonic shower that this whole room seemed alien to him.

Jim slid into the door way and held out two fluffy white towels, wash cloth and wrapped bar of soap. "Here. All clean and new and stuff. You can take a shower but you might want to have a soak instead. Hot water should warm you up and I'll look around and see if I can't find a sweater or something to keep your temperature up. We just started pulling out the winter gear."

Jim slid the duffle from his shoulder and set it on the floor next to the sink cabinets.

"Thank you, Jim." Spock said quietly.

The young man shrugged. "Just don't total it in here. You can dump you dirty stuff in the hamper and when you're done the next room down is a guest room. Leave your duffel there and come back to the kitchen. Try and keep your wrist out of the water."

Jim closed the door after him and Spock heard the foot steps echo before fading into the kitchen. Spock stood still for a moment before in his solitude letting out a single shuddering breath. As he set to work to create a show for himself, stripping of the dirty traveling clothes and turning the hot water on the half-Vulcan pondered over Jim's appearance both physically and the mannerisms that gave way his mental state.

The young captain had, in the short time apart, become somewhat standoffish. He did not look Spock in the eye easily and quickly looked away when he did. His temper had been far too short and quick when Spock had made his argument against Cody's disability. Spock remembered a Jim Kirk that listened intently and waited for the entirety of an opponent's argument before quietly and calmly making his own debate.

Jim had seemed stiff, his muscles tight but he hands far too busy signing to fidget as they normally did. His jaw had seemed permanently locked and stiff as he spoke and when Jim's flesh made contact with his own the hum and pressure of the other man was different.

The few times during their deployment that their flesh had met Spock had been brushed by a feeling of a tightly controlled and repressed ferality, the thrum of the ancient language buried under a secure surface of reason and stead fast determination and self control. The emotions had seemed fleeting, strong but only the slightest registers here and there, over shadowed by a passionate, protective nature and the faint, bitter taste of some personal horror had lingered at the edges. Through it all, like Jim's natural state, the brush of Jim's mind and self had been quiet. There were others that Spock had crossed whose entire being screamed and roared in a deafening pitch, as if they were internally terrified of never being heard. And in Spock's experience he had never met a human whose being did not at least have a level of chatter.

Jim's was near silent, more like a pulse or a pressure, a literal feeling of existence instead of a claim to one.

That was before Jim had come to Native Sky, in their time apart the brush of Jim's self in the skin to skin contact had not drastically changed but the layer of self control and repression between his conscious being and the feral nature brewing beneath had thinned and weakened some. The whispers of that silent language had been louder and even in the brief contact of their hands the pressure had been greater and threaded deeper into Spock than it had before.

He was unsure of it was because Jim's state had altered severely or that the thin thread of the language that had taken up residence in Spock's core had recognized its origin in Jim and reacted enough to cause a difference.

Spock would have to make a further inquiry to pin point the exactness of the change. But the rock in Spock's gut, the thing he would not call 'worry' pushed against him, nudging Spock's intuition into belief that Jim was still unsettled. It pushed at him to a determination that with his presence now made, Spock would set things back in order.

The First Officer went against Jim's advice of a soaking bath, the scalding hot water gushing from the shower head was sufficient. He didn't intend to linger long but it did become difficult to keep his injured wrist from under the spray. The heated water was a comfort, while the feeling of water itself was alien it brutally chased away the sluggish, disquieting cold that had steadily sunk into Spock's core. The sloughed off the dirt and grit of the hard journey to the ranch along with the cold. Spock stood still for some time under the spray, allowing it to sink in and warm him completely. The scald of the heat enough to bring a slight green flush to the half-Vulcan's skin.

Some of the tension drained away as taught muscles relaxed under the heat and Spock found his breathing deepening to a sedated pace as he categorized the different texture and behavior of the water over the different planes of his skin. Spock tilted his head back and allowed a mouthful of the liquid to slide, nearly burning, down his throat and settle in his belly.

Spock was brought back to himself when he shifted and a spark of pain flew up his arm to his spine when his injured wrist was flecked by the water. The First Officer quickly and efficiently striped the new bar of soap scrubbed himself without causing too much discomfort in his wrist and shut the water off. He toweled himself dry and retrieved fresh clothing from his duffle.

Fully dressed Spock exited the bathroom with a final look at the now steam filled mirror and the snapshots bordering it. Spock turned sharply to walk down to the last door on the left of the hall. He glanced at the photographs and tack hung on the wall and he pushed the door open carefully before stepping in.

The theme of earth tones and red were carried on here.

The room was large enough for the queen sized bed pushed against the far wall under a massive window. The bed spread was a light tawny and red. A small mountain of pillows and plush comforter was a change from the slightly uncomfortable beds of Starfleet used in their dormitories and ships as well as the stiff palates typical of Vulcan culture. The hardwood floor was broken by a large rug of tightly woven material that was a light brown. There was a small bedside table supporting a lamp with a red shade. A small desk was pushed to one side with a straight backed chair and on the other side of the wall was a large plush chair that looked to be a brother of the russet set in the common room. A slim table was flush against a wall next to a wood door leading to a small closet.

The caramel colored walls were decorated with a few items. A simple clock, there was color photograph of a mountain side in Montana on the edge of autumn, the foliage of the picture was reds and golds. A few other photographs were mounted around the room but oddly enough they were not typical pictures of horses, the animal theme had changed. A large metal sculpture on the slim table was in the design of a bull elk. The antlers sweeping over its back, large ears perked and alert. Around it were shallow metal dishes supporting honey and red colored candles. The other black and white photographs show images of bull elk, standing in tall grasses and brush.

It was more than suitable and Spock eased his duffle down onto the edge of the bed before stepping back out, following the short hall to the kitchen.

Spock noticed that the air of the home had warmed slightly. When passing the common room Spock glanced around and notice immediately that the windows had been pulled shut, possibly the doors and it was clear that the thermostat had been turned up.

Spock felt a small pulse of warmth in this stomach, his bubbled and threatened to rise towards his throat. The half-Vulcan didn't encourage the warmth to expand, but he didn't repress it either. He stepped into the kitchen, his boots thudding on the terra cotta tiles.

The warmth in his stomach collapsed in on itself and the familiar bitterness of failure took its place.

Nemo A534 was stretched out on his uninjured side in the middle of the floor, ribs rising and falling evenly but a whispered whine slipped out on each exhale. His one eye was shut tight to match the empty socket. The burn wound had been cleaned up, the salve reapplied and then wrapped securely with cloth bandaging.

Jim was sitting cross legged on the floor next to the dog, his calloused hands moving from nose tip to the base of Nemo A534's tail in smooth, slow strokes. Cerulean yes were fixed on the dog, brimming with an unshed sorrow that it wrenched at Spock for causing any more aggravation to his captain and pain to the dog.

"It's not your fault." Jim said quietly, not looking up from the German Shepherd. Nemo A534's ears perked forward at his voice and the one eye opened and settled on Spock. The dog let out a tired whine before his tail lifted once to slap the floor in an exhausted wag.

Spock didn't respond, looking from Jim to the dog.

"I recognized the bruise pattern on your arm… had it myself a couple of time. He got hurt trying to save you, didn't he?"

Spock straightened a little and reflexively settled his hands into the small of his back. "The details of the event are unclear but I believe that you deduction, coinciding with mine, is correct."

He purposefully kept his voice low, trying to match the same acoustic level of the young man at his feet.

"Good."

Spock stilled, waiting for some kind of explanation.

"He was doing what he was trained to do… Nemo A534, he used to be a search and rescue dog for the State Police. They retired him when he lost his eye and Cody was able to pick him up through a connection… instead of, you know, letting them euthanise him." Jim didn't look up at Spock as he spoke. "I don't think he minds being a cattle dog but it's probably not as exciting as his job used to be. Sometimes he gets a chance to help someone but he just forgets that he's getting a little old for that kind of stuff. That he's getting slower." Jim's hand passed lightly over the bandaged shoulder.

"May I inquire-"

"He's six."

"This is old for a dog?"

"Yeah. He's got a hero complex that makes me crazy half the time but I'm grateful that he had it to get you out of harms way."

The warmth in Spock's gut threatened to return as he steadied himself to reply but was interrupted.

He glanced away from Jim towards the kitchen door when it swung open and Cody slipped through dusting her hands across the thighs of her jeans, tucked under one arm was a bundle of thick cloth. As she stepped into the room the albino German Shepherd, Canteska, and the short legged, sable and white dog followed behind. The Shepherd crossed the room in stiff, old steps to curl up under the table and the plump, little dog stayed happily on Cody's heels, the tip of his tailess rump wriggling slightly. Cody glanced up and offered a small smile to Spock and she took a few strides towards the half-Vulcan and offered the bundle.

Spock carefully took it out of her hands and shook out the fabric. It was a soft and thickly knit sweater of a mottled grayish blue color, plain and relatively large in size. There were a few bits of grass or hay or straw stuck to the fabric that Spock easily brushed off.

Spock glanced at Cody and she made a few signs. The half-Vulcan waited until she was done before glancing at Jim.

"She said that this'll have to do until she can pull all of Casper's stuff out." Jim explained. "Casper's the only one that's got clothes that'll fit you Spock. You're too tall and long limbed for the rest of us."

Spock looked back at Cody and carefully tried to force the muscles in his face to react more as he said 'Thank you'.

He must have made an odd expression because one of Cody's eyebrows lifted and she made a slight face in return.

"Spock."

The First Officer glanced down at Jim. The young man lifted one of his hands, keeping it flat touched the tips of his fingers to his chin before dropping and turning it to expose his palm in Spock's direction.

"That's 'thank you' in ASL." Jim explained as he settled his hand back on Nemo A534's neck.

Spock lifted his eyes back to Cody, who met his gaze steadily. Spock carefully repeated the sign that Jim had demonstrated.

Cody immediately smiled and nodded before stepping back towards the stove top and oven were there was a shallow pan and a metal kettle simmering on heat. Next to it was a large bowl that looked to be full of some kind of batter.

Spock fingered the thick sweater in his hands. "I expect you asked her to find this for me."

"Actually as soon as I mentioned you were cold she ditched me to go through the stuff to fit you." Jim shrugged one shoulder. "She's knows about as much as I do about Vulcans… mostly because I pass on what ever you teach me."

Spock raised an eyebrow in question at Jim.

"Nothing embarrassing, I promise." Jim fluidly pushed himself up from the floor and motioned for Spock to sit at the table. The First Officer complied and settled himself into one of the chairs. The sensation of sitting almost felt odd. It had been a long time since he'd sat.

The plump, short legged dog trotted over to sniff at Nemo A534 then moved to Jim's side and tilted his head back so far his rump connected with the floor, then the little dog had to stand up on hind legs before he could see Spock to his satisfaction. The little dog gave a woof, dropped back to his paws and ambled back to Cody's heel.

"What sort of dog is that?" Spock couldn't help but ask, he'd never seen the breed before. The half-Vulcan had only recognized the German Shepherd breed as they were a world wide, praised working dog for military and police. Jim twisted to look over his shoulder.

"Welsh Corgi." Jim said absently, but even with his attention focused on getting to the injury he could not stop himself from praising the animal. "Couldn't tell from looking at him but Situpsa over there is a pretty bad ass herding dog. Just as good as the Shepherds. Different breeds, same instincts and purposes."

Situpsa had turned at the sound of his name, cocked his head and let out a little bark before turning his attention fully back to Cody.

Jim went for Spock's left arm before the Vulcan could offer it. The brush of skin on skin brought the thrumming sensation of Jim's mind into slight focus. It pulsed slightly next to Spock's own consciousness. Having had time to contemplate the difference of Jim's state of mind Spock probed gently back as the slight intrusion, intending to verify the severity of the alteration.

While not much else had changed since Spock examined the mental signature from Jim's careful inspection of his hand on the porch, Jim's self was quieter than it had been. It wasn't the near silence that Spock had become accustomed to on the _Enterprise_, but it was significantly quieter.

It put Spock at ease, just slightly.

The young captain pushed up Spock's sleeve, crinkling and disrupting the crisp crease that had been there. Once the sleeve was bunched uncomfortably at Spock's elbow Jim lifted a knife from the table top, next to the medicinal kit. The blade was short and wide, silver and flashed with a few engravings in the metal. The hilt looked as if it had been made of hewn down bone. Spock tensed slightly as Jim slipped the tip of the blade under his dirt smudged bandage. The cool of the silver pressing into Spock's pulse and vein, sending an invisible shiver over his skin.

Jim made a smooth tug of the blade as one of his hands kept Spock's forearm steady. The bandage and medical tape sliced open with a soft hiss. Spock did not flinch and Jim set the blade down and carefully peeled the cuff of dressing back to expose Spock's wrist.

The bracelet of torn tissue was raw, a sickly green and yellow color and it looked wet and slightly swollen.

"Did you notice you had a fever, Spock?" Jim asked. His face a neutral mask that would have done a Vulcan proud if they could feel such pride.

"No, my internal body temperature has dropped since coming to Montana. Not risen." Spock assured.

"Well with your core all screwed up I guess you wouldn't. Or Vulcan's get a different reaction. Anyway." Jim sidestepped, keeping his hand firmly on Spock's forearm as Cody moved over and set the ceramic bowl with refreshed hot water down on the table with a new square of fabric. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise at Spock's wrist and she bent closer to look at the agitated flesh. Spock tensed for a moment, expecting that Cody would reach to touch his flesh for her inspection. Spock did not feel prepared to encounter a stranger's mind, even in the slightest brush of consciousness… much less one so foreign as Cody's would possibly be.

The First Officer felt some kind of relief when Jim's hand moved a little higher on his forearm and gently twisted Spock's arm around and over, performing the physical movement for Cody instead of her acting herself. The half-Vulcan could not but wonder if Jim knew the relief and comfort he'd given Spock with his mall act to ensure Spock's telepathic integrity.

She made a few short moves of her hands and Jim responded in kind.

Spock narrowed his eyes. "I expect the wound has contracted some for of infection. Based on the reaction both of you have made."

"Yeah Spock. It looks kind of bad. How long ago did it happen?"

"Approximately thirty two hours fifteen minutes and forty seconds ago."

"How long before it was bandaged?"

"I performed the service myself until such time that the veterinarian that saw to Nemo A534 cleaned and dressed the wound."

"No antibiotics, huh?"

"They were unavailable."

As the conversation took place Jim used one hand to weave and draw the signs in the air for Cody to read.

"Well Spock, I don't know enough about Vulcan biology to just dose you with something but we'll clean it up and put some natural antibodies in you I'm sure meditating or something will make it easy for you to fight it." Jim explained and dipped the cloth into the hot water before very gingerly brushing it over the wound.

Spock gave inclination to the action except a tightening of the muscle in his forearm. His self-control, some what restored by his pseudo meditation in the shower, was still frayed and strained. It was a severe level of effort to keep himself still and not lash out in pain as Jim continued to pass the damp fabric over his wrist in short, gentle swipes.

The young captain's focus was fixed as he carefully cleaned the injury deeper, getting out any dirt or dust that had collected under the bandage and agitating the wound on purpose, enough to open it a little and a thick, putrid greenish liquid dribbled down Spock's forearm, over Jim's hand and puddle on the table top.

Spock physically flinched and his left hand clenched sharply, nails biting into his own palm.

"Easy." Jim assured, not letting up as he worked the angry flesh deeper and a little more aggressively. More fluid trickled down to join the puddle.

Spock's nails dug deeper into his palm and his muscles corded in his arm.

"Relax Spock, alright. Stay with me." Jim assured, coaxing and soothing as he spoke. The pressure of the cloth and hot water dug into the hollow of his wrist and Spock jerked his arm sharply, trying to pull away from Jim.

The half-Vulcan was surprised when Jim's grip turned into iron and refused to let go of Spock's forearm.

Before Spock could move to pull away fully Jim spoke, his tone low and comforting. _"Mitawa tokahe, un nahahci kici miye._ I know it hurts."

The half-Vulcan felt the low rumble of the ancient language spoken. It chimed in Jim's low tenor voice but instead of hovering just over Spock's skin, whispering and chatting at him it shot straight to his core. The singular thread bound in Spock unfurled and rushed up to meet the familiarity of its feral origins. A thin shield of self control prevented the whispered language from sinking any deeper and kept the thread in Spock's core from mixing with the foreign influence. They pooled and churned on either surface of the barrier, both hummed and in frustration started to thunder, resonating around the cavity of his chest. It was a pressure, a weight that threatened to strangle Spock at the same time as offered comfort.

Spock felt Jim's hand move on his forearm, the pressure of his grip increasing and decreasing methodically, massaging the tight muscles. Jim's mind brushed almost deliberately against Spock's and it with a thin wash of protectiveness and sorrow, and another emotion strong enough that it almost congealed.

Comfort.

It pulsed, it was tamed, controlled and docile and mixed with the feral pressure of the whispered language's bittersweet brand that kicked and bucked in the hollow of his chest. It was both human and animal, foreign and familiar.

For a long moment the pain in his wrist dulled and Spock relaxed just a fraction. A breath slipped from his lips and chest louder than he intended.

"I'm not trying to hurt you Spock…" Jim swallowed hard but did not relent, going back to cleaning the deep laceration and draining it, sending a new trickle of fluid down Spock's arm and over Jim's hand. "I have to be cruel to be kind here, bear with me. I probably hate it more than you do."

"That possibility is hard to accept." Spock said quietly, his voice a little rough and rasped as the pain returned from his distraction.

"No, Spock. I don't think you have any idea how much I don't like causing pain." Jim said a little stiffly.

Spock felt a twinge of shade across the brush of Jim's mind and the bitter taste and metallic scent of personal horror flickered into existence for a moment before it was pushed back forcibly into Jim's subconscious.

Spock tried consciously to relax more and found it hard when Jim was silent and purposefully forcing the wound in his wrist to open and bubble with fluid.

"What is that language?" Spock asked, unable to tear his eyes away from his wrist. "You've spoken it a number of times in my presence yet never explained."

Jim bit his lower lip and silently dunked the quickly dirtying rag into the hot water to clean it for a moment before returning it to Spock's wrist.

"I do not wish to get into the habit of repeating myself more than necessary. If you do not wish to divulge the information then tell me so."

Spock's control must have really been near breaking, he could hear the edge of bitterness in his voice himself. No doubt that Jim caught it, as the young man gave a physical flinch.

"It's Lakota, Spock."

"Lakota." The half-Vulcan repeated, finding he could pull away from the pain in his hand and wrist with the conversation. "I have yet to come across the language, perhaps it is a sub-category, a dialect? What species utilizes it?"

"Humans. It's the language of the Lakota Sioux tribe, a Native American people." Jim explained, now a bitterness had crept into his voice. "The reason you haven't crossed it is because it and its people are practically extinct."

"A human sub-culture extinct?" Spock asked with interest and mild surprise. "The human race prides itself on its diversity; it would not allow an entire culture to be wiped out."

"It happened a long time ago Spock." Jim said stiffly, clear that he didn't want to go on.

"Explain." Spock prompted and Jim let out an agitated snort and roughly dropped the cloth into the water that was now tinged a faint green and cool to the touch. His hand breaking contact for the first time in several minutes and Spock felt the loss and a slight disorientation when Jim's mind and self were pulled abruptly away.

"Spock-"

"Jim."

The young captain sighed and lifted the bowl, crossing the room and dumping it all into the sink. He washed the cloth under scalding water before returning to the table to soak up the puddle of infectious fluid on the table top and swipe it a last time to clean Spock's arm and wrist. His movement drew attention to Cody, who was busily filling a large plate full of small round, cake like breads. Spock watched for a moment as Cody placed a circular, metal mold onto the surface of the pan, filled it with batter from a bowl, dropped in a few small, dark blue berries then repeated the process. Spock noticed for the first time the scent of cooking food and the soft sounds of bubbling water and grease.

"About six hundred years ago the Europeans started colonizing North and South America… didn't your mom tell you about this stuff? You said she was a teacher."

Spock's head snapped to Jim as the young man dropped the sodden cloth into a waste basket and turned to the refrigeration unit, pulled it open and drew out a large glass jar filled with a thick, golden fluid. Jim retrieved a new ceramic bowl from the shelves and crossed back to the table.

"She did not make a mention of the Lakota Sioux, though she did of American history."

Spock felt only a small twinge of pain at the mention of his mother, by terms of grief Spock was far from over the loss. Jim seemed to have read his pain and blossoming depression over Amanda's death, the quilt and tension and even before the fledgling bond of friendship had risen Jim had reached out and over a cooling cup of tea told Spock he didn't understand and never would, that he did not sympathize with Spock over the loss but sympathized because of it. He expressed his own pain had having torn open such a fresh wound on the bridge and offered himself as an outlet for the grief, a personal Wailing Wall to the briefed half-Vulcan but told Spock he only wanted to hear good memories, not sorrowful ones. Spock had never gone to Jim, never accepted the offer, if he had realized that Jim was making a personal, monumental effort at offering himself and his compassion and trust Spock would have been at Jim's side in a moment. He had been disoriented by his own grief but Jim's words, the truth of his inability to understand and pressure of remembrance in only enjoyable times had set Spock on a course of dealing with his tragedy and healing the wound. Jim had done something for him no other being had that had quelled the ache and when mention of her crossed Jim's lips could not and perhaps would never again bring anything but a minor ache and a flood of golden hued memories.

"Figures. People have pretty much forgotten them." Jim opened and tipped the jar to allow several large dollops of the amber syrup to pool in the bottom of the bowl. Spock's nose twitched as the sharp scent of spiced honey reached him. The young man moved to the sink and added a bit of hot water and sloshed the bowl to mix the two.

"You hesitation makes it clear that you do not truly wish to explain the near extinction of this tribe. It was by off color means." Spock assumed. Jim sighed loudly and lifted a hand to rub his nose as he continued to swirl the contents of the bowl, loosening the honey before setting it next to Spock on the table. Jim pulled a roll of cloth bandaging from the kit and sunk it in the loosened honey.

"Off color…" Jim repeated coolly, shortly. "It was genocide."

Spock went very still at the notion and waited for Jim to elaborate.

"Do you share a heritage with them?" Spock asked after a moment.

"No. Just…" He glanced over his shoulder at Cody, the young woman oblivious of their conversation. "The tribes never recovered. The Lakota Sioux maybe has three hundred members today; only about seventy of those are full blood. Cody's pure blood. Most of her family, too. After hearing the stories from the elders and Grandfather enough… you kind of see it through their eyes, you know?"

"I can understand that an individual would, over time, develop a feeling of attachment and influence of a specific familial or cultural history and burdens if one was exposed to it on a regular basis. How long have you been in acquaintance with Ms. Chicalato and her family?"

"Her name is Cody and since I was six and she was thirteen."

"That is a relationship of nearly twenty years. I hadn't known you had one with such longevity."

"Yeah, Cody's pretty much one of three humans that are the bar best friend wise for me… well three humanoids."

"Humanoids?"

"You're not full blood and I'm pretty sure Bones personality wise doesn't classify as human."

Spock felt something in his core shift slightly at the mention of himself in the very restricted and exclusive position in Jim's life. Himself, having only known Jim for a few years, to be ranked along side someone that had known the young man when his lifespan was still in the single digits.

The young captain drew the soaked roll of bandaging from the bowl and moved to start wrapping it around Spock's wrist. The fabric was damp and sticky, glossed with sugar and nectar. Spock pulled his arm back at the approach.

Jim rolled his eyes and sighed. "What?"

"You have soaked it in honey. Does not the addition of a contaminate neutralize the purpose of a sterilization process."

"Honey is a natural antibiotic, Spock. Bacteria can't grow in it and it can't rot. They went into the tomb of the Egyptians and found honey in there that was thousands of years old, still sticky and still tasted sweet. This-" Jim gave the soaked bandage a little shake. "-won't let anything new grown and it'll probably kill whatever's in there."

Spock's eye moved from the cloth to Jim's face and back before he extended and offered his wrist again. "I expect it is a tribal remedy that you have learned from Ms. Chicalato-"

"Cody." Jim corrected, it was somewhat nostalgic, "And from her dad, actually. He had medicine for this kind of stuff. Healing."

"He was a physician."

"Nope." Jim assured.

Spock cocked his head slightly. "Then the use of the word 'medicine' is incorrect."

"Not medicine as in drugs and stuff, 'medicine' as in power. Talent, knowledge. It's a Native concept. Like you have medicine for math and languages and stuff like that. And Cody has medicine for horses."

Jim moved forward and gingerly laid the end of the soaked bandage over Spock's raw wrist. Jim's fingers brushed and danced over Spock's flesh as he made smooth and short movements, wrapping the cloth tightly in place. Spock felt a slight bite of pain with each wrap but did not act or complain on it.

When Jim came to end of the cloth his hands and wrist were dripping and glazed slightly with honey. "Hold that."

Spock placed the fingers of his free hand on the edge of the bandage and held it while Jim stepped back to wash his hands clean and dry them before digging out another roll of cloth.

"I must confess that I am uncomfortable with the use of unproven medicinal remedies on a serious injury." Spock told Jim.

"Well. Ben's dad was the one that passed on the medicine for healing and Grandpa Dancing Fox lived until he was a hundred and fifteen. Naturally, no drugs, doctors or hospitals or anything like that. Everything that went into his body was of his own making."

Spock's eyebrow raised slightly as Jim nudged his hand away and carefully wrapped the dry bandage over the honey soaked one.

"That is near the lifespan of a Vulcan. He was human?"

"Totally."

"Fascinating."

Jim's face quirked in a slight smile for the first time since Spock arrived, he finished wrapping the dry bandage so that it looked as if Spock was sporting a thick, cloth cuff or bracelet. Jim used a modern cloth adhesive to pin it to place.

"You seem to have an intimate knowledge of the Chicalato family."

"I better. I pretty much grew up in their house with Cody and her brothers." Jim swept the table of the medical supplies and moved them out of the way in time for the young woman to cross over with the large plate of fried bread. She sat it down in front of Spock as well as a large, ceramic mug of a brown fluid with a sprig of herbs, tied with a loop of string, sunk into the liquid like a spoon. A slight sniff and under the foreign mingle of spices and ingredients Spock recognized the basic leaves of Terran tea.

Jim reached over Cody's shoulder to snag one of the biscuits and took a bite of it and Cody motioned for Spock to show her Jim's work. Obligingly Spock offered his wrist and tensed for Cody to touch him. Instead the woman bent or leaned forward, prompting Spock to turn his wrist over for her to get a look at all angles of the bandaging.

She smiled slightly and drew a string of signs to Jim. He quirked his lips and his hands twitched out a response. Including the sign Spock recognized as 'thank you'.

"You said you grew up within their household." Spock drew attention back to himself and lifted an eyebrow when Jim stuffed the rest of his biscuit into his mouth to use both hands to sign Spock's words to Cody. "Surely you were not in their company so much, your mother-"

"My mom and Frank were more than fine with me sticking around Cody more than I did them." Jim said bitterly, choking slightly as he swallowed.

Spock's eyebrows lifted in surprise and he started to speak but Jim cut him off.

"I got to go finish what I started when you showed up. Eat something and take a nap or meditate. The biscuits don't have any animal products in them, milk, butter, eggs none of that stuff." Jim stated for the back door, as he went he grabbed a pair of leather work gloves and tucked them into his back pocket. "And take it slow with the tea. She doesn't usually make it and her coffee can strip flesh from bone, so it's bound to be a little strong."

"Jim-" Spock realized too late he'd dominated their conversation and Jim had passively accepted that instead of posing his own questions and expectations from the First Officer.

"Later!' The young man called from beyond the door, Spock tilted slightly to watch as Jim trotted across the lawn towards the stable barn.

When Jim was out of sight he turned his attention to Cody who was still standing next to him. The young woman lifted her eyebrows and waited for Spock to make some kind of attempt. The half-Vulcan shifted slightly and cast his eyes towards the tea. He carefully lifted the mug to his lips and took a mouthful, the tied sprig brushing along his lip and nostril as he did.

The flavor pooled on his tongue and burst, a sharp wash of herbs and spices rushed down his throat and up his nose like an assault. Sending Spock into and undignified fit of coughing and panting.

Cody made a face of concern and interest as she watched Spock calm himself and bring his breathing back to a normal pace. Spock looked up at her, nearly recovered, eyes watering just slightly and cleared his throat roughly.

Cody reached over and pulled the large jar of honey towards Spock until the jar clinked against the ceramic of the mug.

* * *

**A/N: I have no idea why but this was a ridiculously hard to write chapter… probably because it's really nice outside and I felt like I had to finish it today… anyway…**

**Lakota! Ya! More!**

**Canteska – White Heart**

**Situpsa – Wag Tail or Wags Tail**

**Mitawa tokahe, un nahahci kici miye – My first, be still for me.**

**And hey, looks like Spock's already learning a little bit about Jim, Cody and the Lakota Sioux.**

**Yeah… I'm going to go out and play with my horses.**

…


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry it took so long all. Weekend before last I was down in Okalahoma helping out on the cattle ranch with Danny and my Aunt Annie and last weekend was my birthday. All that on top of rebreaking my gelding Voodoo and working out my mare Magic and dealing with the new litter of kittens and working on the engine of my truck this kind of took a back burner… but it go done so yay! **

* * *

**Pre-Spirk/Spirk: Summary:** **As Spock looked on Jim and Yellow Wolf's breathing pattern matched and it seemed as if their heartbeats began a single chorus. And oddly, Spock felt suddenly and terribly excluded and alone in their company.**

* * *

**Lost Horse Creek, Montana**

"**When you are lonely, let me be your companion. When you are tired, let me carry the load. When you need to learn, let me teach you… after all, I am your horse."**

**-Unknown**

* * *

**Chapter Three: Break of Day**

"**The dawn speeds a man on his journey, and speeds him to his work…"**

**- Hesiod**

* * *

_**Native Sky Ranch**_

_**124 Flathead Road,**_

_**Lost Horse Creek, Bitterroot Mountain Range, Rocky Mountains, Ravalli County, Montana**_

_**Stardate: 2260**_

_**September 19**_

_**0532 Hours**_

Meditation in and of itself was a tentative and delicate undertaking that could snap with the slightest distraction.

It was a survival instinct, to have something so deeply necessary to his species to be so easily rent apart, one of the few but unbreakable and viciously strong throwbacks to the primal and supposedly savage nature of the Vulcan ancestry.

As a meditating Vulcan is an easily killed Vulcan.

Made prey to large predators with absolute detachment of conscious mind to the body. As civilization had slowly gripped the race the need for such a hypersensitivity grew less and less and supposedly was bred out of the race through evolution. Perfectly logical since the last large predator of Vulcan, the La-matya , was supposedly rendered extinct by pure lack of prey some two thousand years prior to the present stardate.

Though Spock knew that was false from personal experience.

Most purebred Vulcans had 'lost' the trait of an easily disrupted meditation state… which in all status meant that those individuals had trained the trait into suppression and left the instinctive response for Vulcan younglings and the elderly to deal with.

That suppression was something Spock simply could not master, though he tried. His logical mind repeating a mantra of his safety. Barricaded behind solid walls and if he could not protect himself there were others near that would take up his defense. The days of being hunted like a deer for the meat of some hungry predator and her cubs was long passed. He was safe, Spock would chant the words over and over in his mind, trying to coax his instincts into submission and lock them away, he was safe.

Vulcan emotions and instincts ran deep, far deeper, the race believed, than any other in the universe much less the Federation. Powerful, fierce and all consuming it was only logic of the species to harness and suppress those emotions and instincts in favor of quiet, poise and rationality.

Spock tried. Desperately tried. Since he was five and coming into his own had begun his true Vulcan training and following the Surakian teachings. Taught to center his meditation on the molten core of Vulcan herself and draw away from the physical world. Each trial at meditation was an internal struggle that in and of itself was mentally exhausting as the hybrid tried to pull his conscious mind away from his physical form, each trial was left more and more in wanting.

Spock was intimately familiar with something that the Vulcan race would never condone, the ferocity of human emotion. It was an easy match for Vulcan, still wild and raw compared to the strictly controlled and 'enlightened' feelings of the Vulcan race. His kind still believed the human emotion primeval and tainted with ferality. Alike to the Vulcan race before the Awakening. It was looked down upon… and Spock was looked down upon.

The teachings of Surak didn't bank on a throwback, a blending of iron and copper blood. The teachings had no lead to follow when it came to one of the singularly most powerful forces in existence.

Human survival instinct.

One of the first teachings was to accept the certainty of death. Death was unavoidable, it would come to all beings. Some early and some late in their lives. It was one of the few constants among all species. It was not evil or good, it did not show favoritism or prejudice. Death was a force in which all were slave.

Spock accepted early in his life that he would die, like the other Vulcan younglings. But unlike them there had been a rage against that notion that would not be quelled and at every turn that his mortality was in question in swelled to near all consumption. His peers could easily talk for hours of the possibilities of their own deaths, a hundred years from the moment or never waking again the next morning and something… violent would expand in Spock. The humanity of it taking control, thrashing, bucking and kicking, eyes blown wide and nostrils flared at the notion of allowing death to take root. It rebelled and worked itself into lather, foaming at the mouth and pounded violently against Spock from the inside at the abomination of swallowing death like a tonic.

It would not have it. Must live or die fighting for life.

The human will to survive had no point of exhaustion and it fed off Spock's supposedly 'bred out' Vulcan instincts to enforce its position.

But at least, aboard the _Enterprise_, those instincts were quieted enough that Spock could catch those necessary minutes of meditation. He would not admit that it took longer to settle in and calm his mind before carefully detaching it from his physical form and at times it seemed that Spock meditated more than he slept, but least it happened in the confines of his First Officer's cabin.

Even with the destruction of the common focus point of the Vulcan homeworld herself destroyed, Spock had still been able to manage.

Here, in the ancient mountains surrounded by the unfamiliar, Spock could not.

The air here was thin as it had been on Vulcan, bitten by a cold that he'd never known but here… it lingered. Hanging around him and gently pressing. As if it wanted to speak but it's voice was quieted or beyond his reach of hearing, at times it seemed to swell and for an instant Spock thought he heard whispered foreign words drifting towards him before they fell silent again. Almost like it was unsure of wither it should try and speak to Spock. An annoyance and a distraction that continuously brushed against the hybrid's delicate and already strained mind and control, hours trickled from midday to afternoon to twilight as Spock thrust himself deeper and deeper into his attempt to relieve the strain of his journey to Native Sky, the strain of misunderstanding Jim and the company he kept, the strain of his alien existence in this cold, rocky place, the strain of existing all together.

Until, in the depth of night, the voices rose in the mountains that stilled Spock's heart.

The chorus of voices rose and fell, rattling and chiming like deep throated bells in a cathedral. Some rose alone and others in tandem with another or a company. They echoed, rolling like thunder over the peaks, falling down into the valleys, drifting over the dark glass of water and threaded easily through cracks in the structures made by man, then passed the flesh and bone to the core of a living being.

Spock could only place the bellowing voices as a choir mourning some great loss. A clan singing it's sorrow into the accepting night, warbling and wailing, the cries thrust a chill under his skin that was crueler and more supernatural than the temperature of the closing Rocky Mountain winter.

Deep in his core, the thread of the ancient language flared to life and rent a fear through Spock he had never known, to primal and feral to be his own, to animal to be human. Something painted in mud and slicked in sweat and instinct reared in him and instead of allowing Spock to draw away from his body drew him closer until Spock could sense every molecule of oxygen filling his lungs and felt every drop of copper blood rippling through veins, over muscles and in cells.

It churned and shivered in the cavity of his chest before shrinking in on itself, from it threaded the quiet command to be still, do not move, do not breath, be still.

Spock had not been able to help himself, pushing himself back from the center of the room until his back was rigidly pressed against the hard wood of the foot of the bed.

It soothed some of the foreign fear, allowed him to think rationally for a time, the instincts somewhat satisfied with his most vulnerable angle protected. Spock had tried to quiet himself, breathing slowly and speaking quietly to himself in the darkness until the mantra was broken time and again by the rise of another voice crying in the mountains.

His illogical fear had flared when the soft sound of clicking nails crossed the hardwood and the door of the guest room eased open with a slight groan. Spock had felt the muscles coil and the fear close at his throat and did not release until Nemo A534's shape and coloring had been distinguishable in the low light of the candles burning on the table top. The dog had sensed his discomfort and fear from his place on the kitchen floor, scented it and knew it.

Nemo A534 understood it not only from his training and life in the present but knew it from the primal and ancient pact between his species and the Firemakers. He remembered it from the first moment his wild brothers came down from the mountain to lay in the circles of light and took bits of flesh from the Firemarkers' palms, as if he had been there himself. And the Law was written.

This creature, a shivering cub, was not a member of his pack. Was not even a true blooded Firemaker. His blood fell green, his flesh scented like the heat lightening of deserts and the hides of grazing Prey, he was stiff and muscles hard, eyes dark and voice dead.

But his fear… his fear was the fear of a Firemaker, somewhere in the cub there was Firemaker blood. Nemo A534 sensed and knew that and that bound the dog to the pact, the Law, between them.

Spock was very still when the dog had crossed the floor, limping stiffly until Nemo A534 had stood at his side, stretched across to lick Spock across the face once.

A flare of the dog's mind and consciousness crashed into the half-Vulcan at the touch. His hypervigilance and sensitivity making the slightest touch a wide connection between his mind and any others that brushed his skin.

The dog's mind was unlike anything Spock had felt before. So alien and animal it could not be classified, the emotions raw and refined down in the purest form and simplistic in its own strange form of complexity and Spock had to turn away, breaking the contact though he knew it was the dog's way of comfort.

Spock's heart did not calm and his instincts and tension relax until Nemo A534 had curled awkwardly pressed again his hip and draped his head across the hybrid's lap and somehow the shivering voices in the mountains had drifted away to a safe distance and Spock had been able to fill his lungs with the cool, thin air again.

Spock had not meditated.

But he had slept.

Slept longer than he had in the majority of his adult life, from the witching hours into the predawn moments of the day.

Spock's eyes opened to the darkness of the guest room, the still of it only broken by the slight rise and fall of his chest and the sides of the dog curled against his hip. Head still draped over Spock's lap.

The hybrid sat still and listened to the dark and still of the ranch home and caught the more distinguishable noises through the glass of his window as the world outside shifted and breathed. Spock's back still pressed against the now warm wood of the bed, the Vulcan straightened his spine and shifted to sit more independently. He did not flinch at the sound of flesh and cloth peeling away from wood, breaking an adhesive made of close contact for so long.

It had been hours. A small clock with the only light in the darkness, its face lit to the number of half passed the fifth hour of the morning. The candles had long melted into abstract pools on the dish bases and over the wood of the table.

Spock twisted slightly to look passed the glass into the darkness beyond.

The sun had not risen over the mountains yet and there was no rise or fall of voices beyond the peaks. No chorus of mourners.

Spock felt a disquiet in his core that the voices may have been conjured in his mind alone, the exhaustion and strain had become to much and something within may have snapped, lifting the voices only in the secludes of his consciousness. It was an unsettling thought to entertain the idea of mental decay so severe it caused auditory hallucinations and irrational fear. He could not, even now, be sure of his stability as his physical body was refreshed with only the lingering ache of an awkward sleeping position, not his conscious self.

His mind needed meditation to calm, sort out and heal itself. The sleep had done him good but he would trade it for meditation easily if he was given that chance. Until a time came that Spock could fall easily into a meditative state he would not be able to assess his own sanity.

The notion didn't sit well with the hybrid.

But it was before sunrise and there was a small ritual that Spock could perform with the time. He knew Jim was an early riser, but before the break of the sun was unheard of for the young captain when planet side. And Cody's disability gave Spock the impression she took liberties to their full advantage. Spock felt he had adequate time and had his own reason for wanting the moments alone.

There was a sharp pang of hunger nipping in his gut. The hybrid had not eaten well for the past few days and those he'd taken the hospitality of the petite, deaf woman he'd only been able to swallow half of the excruciatingly strong tea Cody had made and though her effort was clear with the biscuits lacking all signs of animal products Spock had been unable to partake.

Vulcans did not eat with their hands.

The smell of the fried bread and the dots of blue fruit in the pastries had been hard on the First Officer but he stood fast with his raising and politely refused. At least he believed he politely refused. To speak to and understand Cody was trying and Spock simply did not have the mental capacity for the patience to construct a means of communication between them, if only a temporary one, at the time.

It was Vulcan nature to go days, or when hard pressed weeks, without food or water but Spock did not have the same longevity a pure blood Vulcan would have and if he could avoid the bite of hunger the hybrid did. There was no shame in making a conscious effort to have a full belly at all times.

Spock gently lifted Nemo A534's head from his lap and unfolded his long frame to stand. The dog lifted his head, yawned before dropping it back to his paws and falling back to sleep.

A small cocoon of body warmth cracked and fell away as the hybrid's limbs and clothes stretched to meet air. Spock could not help the slight shiver that went through him as the half-Vulcan turned to his traveling duffle and selected a fresh set of clothing. A few moments and not a single movement wasted Spock was pulling on his boots when his eyes fell to the thickly knit, gray blue sweater neatly folded on the edge of the bed.

Casper's sweater. Who ever Casper was in the Chicalato line.

Looking at the fabric Spock felt the press of dropped temperature from the dark of overnight. He reached and pulled the sweater toward himself and worked the fabric between his fingers before pulling it over his head.

The phantom Casper was a massive creature, without doubt unless the sweater had been purposefully made to large. Spock's frame was taller and longer in all angles to the average human, though leaner than a man's, but the sweater was easily a size or more to large for him. The sleeves fell passed his hands and the hem was below his hips, clinging about mid thigh. The collar of the sweater loose and settled wide around his throat to expose the black cuff of his turtle neck. Spock gingerly rolled the sleeves up to manageable length and ignored the other deficiencies of the garment.

Though there was no denying it's warmth, the near formless expanse of gray blue trapped his heat easily in the thick stitches and soft yarn and the small crackles of static electricity created with the movement of the cloth stuck it to Spock's closer fitting clothes, hugging him and creating a thick layer of protection.

Some of the cold staved off Spock crossed the room and made his way down the hall to the kitchen with quiet measured steps. His boots only becoming slightly audible on the hardwood flooring but Spock was sure it was not enough to wake Jim.

The half-Vulcan was surprised to find the hall and den lit with the soft golden glow of light sourced from the kitchen. Intrigued Spock silently crossed to the entrance, blinking slightly to adjust to the light before stepping into the kitchen.

Jim was standing with his back facing Spock, his eyes locked on something beyond the dark glass of the window over the sink. He was dressed similar to he had been the day before. Faded and worn jeans, a short sleeved shirt layered under a thick flannel one; this time in the matching colors of dark blue that made the young captain's dark blonde hair lighter and the cerulean of his eyes sharp. He already wore a pair of working boots, laced firmly into place and Spock noticed a heavy coat of suede leather with a thick fleece collar draped over the back of a chair at the table and a light brown Stetson cowboy hat sitting on the edge of the table top.

Around Jim's throat the necklace of horse hair, silver beads and the pendant sat free from the confines of his shirt. The circular pendant an open circle, quartered by lines and each strung with a set of different color beads. Black, white, red and yellow.

The symbol still escaped Spock. After seeing it for the first time at Jim's throat when the young captain struggled in a fit of all consuming nightmares Spock had searched and inquired about the design to both the Starfleet databanks as well as historians of all cultures and kinds.

The symbol was an enigma and Spock began to think that perhaps it was just a design, it's shape and color only made to be aesthetically pleasing.

But Jim's knowledge and understanding of the Native tribe of the Lakota brought a new doubt and Spock endeavored that the shape was probably a symbol of the tribe, though Jim had no blood to connect him to the clan.

The young captain stood with a large ceramic mug cradled in his hands, steam rising from the surface and making Jim's nose crinkle when he dipped his head to drink the thick, black coffee within. It's scent lingered with the slight traces of some meal made fairly recently in the room. It only made Spock's stomach twist irritably.

"Jim-"

The young captain lurched, inhaling too sharply and coffee went up his nose. He jerked and sputtered, slopping more of the hot liquid over his hands. He quickly set the mug down, hissing in pain and coughing roughly turned on the sink and ran cold water over his flesh. He bent and blew out his nose and coughed harder before splashing water only his face.

"Jim?" Spock asked sharply and took a few strides into the room towards his captain. The blonde twisted and looked at him, eyes slightly watering.

"Spock… you have got to start making noise…" Jim let a pained sigh lip from his lips as he reached for a dish towel and dabbed his hands and face dry. A new fit of coughing catching him from deep in his chest.

This was unlike him and it upset Spock deep in his core. Jim did not react to surprise, he was rarely caught off guard as it was and when he was he used a mask of charm and brashness to cover his discomfort and strayed attention.

It only enforced Spock's suspicion that Jim was still unsettled, still unbalanced and in need of an anchor to help him sort himself out.

"I apologize, Jim, I had no intention of… disrupting your thoughts." That was a fairly neutral way of putting it, Spock continued, folding his hands at the small of his back. "I was under the belief that I was the only one to have completed their rest period. I am unaware of Ms. Chic-"

"Cody."

"… Cody's habits of sleep but past observation of yours led me to the understanding you would not rise before the sun."

"It's different on a working ranch Spock." Jim assured, he made a motion towards the table. "I'll make you some breakfast."

Spock stiffened and lifted his head slightly. "While the offer is much appreciated it is Vulcan custom that holding the position as guest an individual is meant to rise before the sun and make the morning meal for the rest of the house hold. I would uphold that tradition and make the offer in turn to you."

"Really? That whole guest makes breakfast thing?" Jim's head cocked slightly to the side.

"Indeed. It is an old, deep tradition of Vulcan society." Spock assured with a slight dip of his chin.

"Weird. It's the other way around with humans. I'd let you but for one I already ate and two do you know how to use a stove top?"

Spock stiffened slightly. "A stove top."

"Yeah." Jim motioned towards the plane of metal and rounded burners set into the stone counter over the oven. "Cody doesn't have a replicator. Cody really doesn't have much in the way of modern technology all together actually. The most advanced piece of tech she's got is a computer consol. Stove, oven, washing machine, dryer, and all that stuff is mostly cerca early twenty first century. She's not really into the 'tech movement'."

"While I have, in the past, used other means to prepare food, no, I have not used a stove top." Spock confessed, stiffening even more.

Jim glanced at a clock, an antique piece with moving hands, on the wall. "Can I show you how later?"

Spock cocked his head, unsure of the restraints of time that were cornering Jim enough that he did not feel her had the time to tinker and play with a piece of machinery for the benefit of another. There were times that Jim seemed to channel Chief Engineer Scott's personality and mannerisms when it came to bits of engines and mechanisms.

"I would be most appreciative of that." Spock conceded.

"Then you can get up at three and make us chow tomorrow." Jim assured as he bent and pulled a metal sauce pan from a closed cupboard and crossed to the sink, he allowed water to run into the pot for a few moments before setting it on one of the burners and twisting a corresponding dial to turn on the burner and heat. Spock watched this all carefully as he moved to take the seat at the table he'd occupied the morning before, confidently it allow Spock to watch the entire kitchen and all of Jim's movements as he pulled down a large glass container filled to the closed lid with what looked like flakes or oats, and another, smaller jar packed with a thick, brown granular substance.

"Figure you're probably hungry." Jim said absently, almost conversationally. "I forgot about the whole no hand food thing until Cody told me you didn't eat anything yesterday. She said you looked kind of sick then shut yourself in the guest room a little after I went back to the barn. She was a little spooky about you not showing back up again either."

"Her effort did not go unnoticed. I hope that my behavior did not cause her agitation, I expect she has not had much interaction with many xenological life forms before."

"Right but that wasn't it. She was just worried about you."

Spock cocked his head a little. "We have only been acquainted for a few hours. That does not seem adequate time, even in human terms, to form an attachment for concern."

"You rubbed her the right way, Spock. She's a good read of character. She knows which hands to shake and which hands to hold."

Spock took a moment to ponder the statement before drawing his attention back to Jim's smooth, natural movements and the soft tenor of his voice. He was speaking and it calmed some of the agitation in the First Officer. Jim had been unusually quiet for the past few weeks. It was calming, perhaps soothing, to hear him speak at length.

"So she was worried and nervous about you shutting down like that. I told her it was normal but when you didn't make an appearance last night I was starting to worry myself. Are you alright?" Jim tipped the large glass jar and let a shower of the oats flutter onto the now churning surface of the boiling water, it rode the rippled surface before sinking. Jim set the lid back onto the jar and reached to a tall ceramic pot filled with large cooking utensils. He pulled free a wooden spoon and used it to agitate and turn over the oats and water in smooth, slow strokes.

"I have made you as well as Doctor McCoy aware that at times meditation can be difficult for me."

Jim nodded, it had been logical action in Spock's mind to inform his commanding officer as well as the chief medical officer of a condition that could affect his performance and health. His inadequacies were logged away in his medical files but never mentioned. Jim dipped his head slightly and stayed quiet, allowing the hybrid to continue.

"I found it particularly difficult to find a depth of meditation yesterday. I stayed in isolation in hopes that with a lengthened effort it would be achieved. The attempt was, to be honest, a failure. I could not achieve a state of mediation."

Spock refrained from admitting hearing the chorus of mourners or the foreign fear that had gripped him.

Jim blinked, he looked startled and unsure. "At all?"

"Correct." Spock agreed, wondering in some concerned amazement at his total honesty of condition to Jim. Perhaps his mental stability was in jeopardy.

"Any reason why?" Jim pressed quietly, probing gently and his tone sounded soothing. "You didn't look like you felt all together yesterday."

"I believe the unfamiliarity with my surroundings was a deciding factor."

Jim hesitated then pressed on. "How so?"

"It was a matter of security."

Jim's head cocked the other way, it was almost bird like. "You didn't feel safe?"

"The physical vulnerability that coexists with the state of meditation is ancient and the trait has long been found unnecessary with the civilization of my race. It seems my mixed heritage has caused the survival instinct to be more pronounced than a pure blooded Vulcan. An unfamiliar setting seems to trigger the inherent reaction that is designed to make my senses more alert and aware when they are in fact doing me more harm than good. It's irrational but a reaction I, seemingly, cannot control."

Spock waited for his judgment from the young captain, already detaching himself from the possible responses, the blows that the words could lay on him danced in his mind.

"Damn Spock. I'm sorry."

The half-Vulcan blinked. "Pardon?"

"I'm sorry. No one should have to feel like that. Like they aren't safe."

There was an edge to Jim's voice and at the edges of his eyes silver was bleeding into the blue.

"Especially here."

Spock was a little unsettled and watched as the tension wrought through the young captain. He fidgeted slightly, one hand twisting and flexing until he cracked his knuckles loudly and made Spock flinch internally. The soft rumble of the ancient language flared, whispers started to collect on the blonde's skin and pool in his joints and eyes. In Spock's core the thread lurched and tightened, recognizing the close proximity to it's source and likeness. The movements of Jim's hands and body took on a different, more primal meaning and explanation.

"I am sure that if I am allowed to continue my stay beyond this first night I will find the accommodations more agreeable." Spock found it a little odd that he was trying to reassure the blonde. Even at his worst Jim was calm and quietly confident, the young captain seemed to never need to seek out support and assurance to steady him.

It seemed to snap some line of thought and Jim's eyes lifted to meet Spock's amber ones, the whispered words dying down to only a low hum as they twisted and curled on his skin. "What do you mean 'allowed to continue' you stay?"

"If it is agreeable to Ms-"

"Cody."

"… to Cody that I can retain my position in the guest bed room."

Jim's eyes narrowed slightly, then a slight mask seemed to fall over him. "Why are you here?"

Spock hesitated.

"You show up on the front porch of a place that a very select few know even exists, with my dog who I left with Bones back in California, looking like you've been through Hell on Earth and threatening to use force to find me to a complete stranger. There's a reason and I would like to know why."

"I expect my purpose will affect the probability of a prolonged position."

Jim only lifted his eyebrows and blindly reached to pull a ceramic bowl down and shut of the heat to the stove. He tipped the sauce pan and poured a thick mash into the bowl before rooting into a drawer and pulling out a spoon. Jim balanced the bowl, jar of brown granulated substance and spoon and set the bowl and jar down in front of Spock.

The First Officer sniffed at the rise of steam from the mash.

"Oatmeal. And brown sugar if you want."

Spock nodded, distantly remembering a similar concoction made for him by his mother in those few blissful years before Spock entered primary schooling. The pang of hunger twisted in his stomach. His eyes traveled to the spoon still perched in Jim's fingers and the half-Vulcan somewhat expected it to be withheld until he made his explanation.

Jim tipped the spoon and offered it in his open palm. Spock gingerly lifted it from across his hand and sank it into the oatmeal. Spock's eyes slid shut as he swallowed a mouthful, the warm mash sliding down his throat and settled warmly in his stomach.

It only flared his hunger and the texture was strange but it warmed the hybrid and began soothing an ache that had wrought tension in his muscles. The plain taste was both familiar and strange but far from unpleasant. When Spock pulled his eyes open Jim was sitting adjacent to him, his hands wrapped around the now cooled coffee.

"Brown sugar would make it sweeter, or we have a few blueberries left. You missed out on those yesterday."

"It is more than acceptable." Spock assured politely before taking another large mouthful. Jim shrugged one shoulder and only watched Spock from the corner of his silver edged eye. Spock swallowed and allowed the oatmeal to settle, resting his spoon on the edge of the ceramic bowl.

"My reasoning for arrival and seeking refuge at Native Sky is a responsibility to your mental and physical health."

The blonde's head titled and an eyebrow cocked up, though no voice joined the facial expression.

"Jim, I am vividly aware of your condition not two months ago. The startling level of your deterioration and inability to decipher reality from hallucination was disquieting and a source of great concern. I had believed that you would remain within the premises of Starfleet Academy to recuperate with in the security of the campus. When knowledge reached me of your departure from the Academy I sought out Doctor McCoy in belief that his position as one of your confidants would yield the desired information to your whereabouts and procured transport to Missoula. Travel from Missoula was less than optimal but resulted in the desired destination. Nemo A534's company was in effect of Doctor McCoy's insistence."

Jim remained silent, only moving to dip his head to take a few mouthfuls of the coffee in his mug. Spock hesitated to copy him with his oatmeal. Jim had made no move or noise of acceptance or disapproval. The half-Vulcan waited for a few long moments of Jim's silence, trying to read the young captain's face and hands for signs of body language in place of spoken words, but Jim was to still. It seemed even the constant quiet hum of the ancient whispered language had stilled.

Spock carefully proceeded. "My reasoning for such actions stand as thus: it is my duty as First Officer to protect and care for the well being of my captain."

Spock lifted a large mouthful of oatmeal and swallowed it down. He toyed absently with the texture and viscosity of the oatmeal with each following bite, only stilling when Jim's voice brushed over his ears.

"Duty as a First Officer?" Jim asked, his eyes still fixed on the wall and the art made of wrought and welded metal in the images of galloping and bucking horses. "Not as a friend?"

Spock's eyebrow cocked up. There had been a slight tightness to Jim's voice. Spock straightened in the chair and lifted his head, tilting his chin upwards.

"Duty bound as First Officer does not bear the weight of my responsibility to you alone." His tone was dignified and calm.

Jim's silver edged cerulean eyes fixed to Spock's amber ones. The young captain blinked slowly and Spock felt that edge of eerie weight that he was being judged and weighed and the thread tied in his core commanded him to be still; that it was unwise to speak further. He focused and found that some of the humanity had left Jim's eyes. The barely control feral nature was brushing at the edge of his retinas and in the pools was a familiar sight that Spock had not been privy too since before the incident on Charus XI.

The loneliness of soul and longing was pure and wretched in Jim's eyes. Spock found it both soothing and unsettling for the raw shadows in the blonde's gaze.

Jim blinked and looked away, his gaze falling to his coffee and he swallowed thickly before lifting a hand and rubbing the back of his neck.

"This is sufficient enough to merit a tentative place in Ms. Chicalato's hospitality for some time longer?" Spock asked.

"Cody said you could stay as long as you wanted or needed within a few minutes of knowing your name, Spock. She never had a notion to turn you out." Jim said glancing up at the clock and pushing himself to his feet.

Spock blinked then narrowed his eyes marginally at the young captain. The true Vulcan image of betrayal and anger. "Ms-"

"Cody." Jim rumbled as he pulled on the suede coat, the wide fleece collar tucked up against his throat and brushing his jaw line.

"-Had no intention of denying me lodging. Regardless of my reasoning for presence." Spock deadpanned.

"Nope."

"You led me to believe otherwise."

"When I do that?" Jim asked, lifting his eyes as he picked up the Stetson and settled it firmly over his hair, tucking it down around his ears and low over his eyes.

Spock blinked and quickly replayed the entirety of their conversation. His eyes narrowed another fraction. "You allowed me to believe my purpose was a mandatory factor against my staying. You gave the false image of implication."

"Just wanted to know why you were here." Jim shrugged, carried the mug to the sink and headed for the door. "Help yourself to the fridge and books."

"You are leaving?"

"Yup. Got to head out."

Spock rose and turned with an inhuman swiftness. One arm snapped out and caught the edge of the door as Spock drew himself up to his full height over his commanding officer. He shivered slightly as cold, morning air swirled through the screen of the outer door and washed over him, but Spock didn't flinch away or retreat from it. His eyes hard and narrowed, he spoke slowly and deliberately. "It's considered impolite to leave a discussion prematurely."

Jim sighed and rolled his jaw, the joint gave a soft pop as Jim ducked under Spock's outstretched arm. He stretched and snagged a large corduroy barn jacket from the row of coats and outer wear hung in the mud room. He twisted and ducked back under Spock's arm, draping the jacket over it.

"It's frigid out there." Jim muttered and pushed open the screen door and crossed the wood of the porch with the rhythmic thud of his boots.

Spock swiftly shrugged the corduroy jacket into place, it was too wide across the shoulders and too long in the sleeves but Spock accepted the garment for its functionality over a better fit. The jacket drew in a tighter barrier between the heat of his body and the cool air around him. Spock stepped out the door, pulling the oaken one closed behind him deliberately and allowing the screen to swing shut with a snap that echoed around the quiet yard. A head of him Jim flinched and twisted to give Spock an incomprehensible look and sighed again but waited until Spock fell into step next to him.

The yard was lit by the low, golden glow that filtered out of the massive, open doors of the stable barn, but it was only light enough to cast light silhouettes on pipe metal gates and wire fencing and the display a bit of the crushed rock, dirt packed and grass of the yard and drive.

"Where is your destination?" Spock asked stiffly, he did not forget the earlier deception. "Accompanying you-"

"You can't come, Spock." Jim said quietly, his tone held no venom or anger, only calm fact. The young captain led them towards the slightly lit shape of a gate and line of fence.

The hybrid stiffened further. "If my presence is not wanted-"

"It's not about wanting you there." Jim continued in the quiet tone, his voice had and edge of coaxing in it, as if to pacify the half-Vulcan. "It's that you'd probably break you neck trying to go."

"I find that improbable and unfounded."

"Spock, you told me you've never ridden a horse before. You want your first try to be in the dark on narrow, mountain tails?"

The half-Vulcan cocked his head and lifted an eyebrow. "I do not feel that I have enough information to make a hypothesis of your destination, Jim."

Jim let out a low breath of air, it formed a cloud of vapor in front of his face and blossomed over his forehead. "We have to go and check up on the cattle. They're up the mountain a bit in summer pastures, we're bringing them back down at the end of the week and we're trying to keep a real close eye so we don't lose any."

"Cattle?"

"Cody's a cattle rancher and a horse trainer. Mostly beef Highlanders and some dairy. She said it's twenty five hundred head to five hundred on the fifteen thousand graze. Plus the score of her herd and the dozen boarders."

None of these numbers made sense to Spock. It was possibly the first time that confusion of number had occurred to him since childhood. "I would appreciate a more detailed explanation."

Jim showed no signs of exasperation or annoyance, though his response sounded slightly rehearsed. "Cody's got twenty five hundred head or twenty five hundred Highlander cattle. Five hundred are crosses or bulls or dairy, and fifteen thousand graze is fifteen thousand acres of pasture. The score is twenty of her horses and a dozen boarders or horses that are staying here to be trained or waiting be shipped out. Give or take a few animals and that's not including goats, barn cats, dogs and the Drafters or the Minis."

Spock nodded his assent and logged away the numbers and terminology for later use and comparison when it rose again.

"C'mon, I'll introduce you to somebody." Jim motioned Spock over to the pipe gate in their path as he stepped up. The young captain moved in until his hip was pressed against the cold metal and he let out a long low whistle, it clouded and fogged around his face. With the noise a string of silent, ancient words rippled through the air. The thread in Spock core flared to life and bubbled in the bottom of his chest. Spock cast his eyes towards Jim and noticed as the ancient language churned and threaded under the expanses of exposed skin and expanded in it's whispered and hushed tones of wordless and noiseless existence.

The blonde side stepped to where a length of chain was securing the gate closed.

Spock looked out into the dark, casting his senses and was able to pick out the movement of a shape as it slid away from a group of shadows. The quick, rhythmic beats of hooves impacting the semi-frozen earth and grass filled his ears. Slowly the shape defined itself as it moved closer and a large horse trotted smoothly towards them.

The animal slowed to a walk as faded light cast off it's sloped back and rounded rump. It cast a look towards Spock before focusing entirely on Jim, moving to stand on the other side of the gate and waited patiently as Jim untangled the chain and pulled the gate open. The horse neatly stepped through and Spock expected it to trot away to find better grazing.

The animal surprised him, sidestepping and swinging it's rump around so it could face Jim and waited stock still while the blonde swung the gate close and secured it with a rattle and clang of metal on metal. The horse didn't twitch or react to the irate sounds, only stood calmly, ears perked forward and nostrils flared in clouds of warm, damp breath.

The animal stood without prompt or being secured. It wasn't even wearing a halter. Jim turned to the horse and stepped forward to lightly lay his palm on the animal's shoulder, not patting or stroking or tugging at fur, just the solid, still contact of his hand and the horse's shoulder. The horse's head dropped until his lips brushed across Jim's hip, snuffling against his jeans for a moment for lifting his head again.

"Spock. Yellow Wolf. Yellow Wolf. Spock." Jim motioned between them.

The horse's ears cocked forward and large eyes blinked slowly as they looked Spock up and down. The First Officer returned the scrutiny.

Yellow Wolf was large, a height known to the horse culture as seventeen hands, his legs long and thick boned, ending in neat hooves. His shoulder was easily a few inches taller than Jim's and his large, sleek frame was rounded and compact, undeniably solid. A thick, coarse mane draped over one side of the horse's neck and habit caused the soft sweep and swish of a tail even in the absence of pests. In the dim light Spock was able to make out the animal's coloring.

Spock searched his mind for the right term, drawn from one of the many equine medical texts or breed directories.

Buckskin.

Yellow Wolf was a buckskin, or looked it in the dim light. His fur was a dark shade of gold. Legs , tail and mane black save for what looked like streaks of white or silver in the long hair. The large perked ears where tipped black and a slim dorsal stripe ran from the horse's shoulder to the base of his tail.

But the pelt was unusual and stood out against the few pictures of buckskin's Spock had seen in Jim's books.

The horse's sides, from the length of his neck along his barrel, was broken by an irregular pattern of large white markings called the Overo type of coloring on an American Paint Horse. The white never crossed the horse's back and did not fall below his gut line. Yellow Wolf's face was largely white, an apron, that met irregular edges over both eyes, causing the pigment in the horse's eyes to split. Both large retinas were half blue and half brown, meeting in a jagged edge down the radius of each eye.

Yellow Wolf nickered softly at Spock, ear pricked and nostrils flaring before stretching his nose towards Spock's hand. The half-Vulcan pulled back and the thread in his core gave an unhappy lurch.

"I had expected the introduction to be to a sentient being, not an animal." Spock stated calmly.

"If there's anyone in this universe that's sentient it's Wolfie." Jim gave Spock an exacerbated look and a small smile.

"Indeed." Spock felt the edge of sarcasm in his voice and wondered if it surfaced enough for Jim to hear.

"Yeah. I've had fifteen years to test that out."

Spock's eyebrow lifted. "Fifteen years?"

"Yeah. I was there when he was foaled. Ben gave him to me when I turned eleven a little after that and Cody helped me gentle him as a yearling." Jim's eyes had fixed on a point long Yellow Wolf's neck as his hands toyed with the mane of the horse. A glaze that could easily be called nostalgia had clouded his vision before it faded back to the silver edged cerulean and Spock felt something twist in his core when he noticed some of the loneliness and longing in Jim's eyes had faded.

"It seems a very young age to be given the responsibility of a young, untrained horse." Spock observed. Jim shrugged one shoulder then jerked his head towards the stable barn, summoning Spock to follow as Jim and started that way.

Spock moved to walk at his side but had to sidestep when Yellow Wolf swung around to walk on Jim's heels as if he'd been tethered to the blonde.

"I wish to make an inquiry as to the name of the horse." Spock quickened his step to put some space between himself and the Overo buckskin.

Jim cocked an eyebrow and waited.

"Yellow Wolf. The description of color is fitting but I wish to understand why you would title a pet-"

"He's a working horse, not a pet." Jim said quickly.

Spock cocked his head. "… as to your inclination to name him after an animal to you consider demonic."

Jim's eyebrows lifted and a slight look of surprise crossed his eyes. "What wolves? Demonic?" He snorted loudly in disbelief. "Wolves aren't demons, Spock."

"I can recall in graphic detail, as well as on the authority of Doctor McCoy, that you react to the contrary and show a deep seated fear of them fairly recently. Doctor McCoy informed me that your nightmares are often manifested in the forms of wolves."

"That doesn't mean they're evil." Jim sighed and looked tired and drawn as he led the way into the brilliant light of the stable barn. Spock blinked once or twice before his vision adjusted.

The stable barn was long and wide, a massive airy room with stripped log rafters high above. The barn was split down the center by an aisle of hard packed dirt and a layer of shifting dust, to the right side was a long row of stalls, at least twenty and possibly more.

Each was large enough to house two horses comfortably, the doors and panels were made of black metal frames and hardware on honey colored hard wood. The wood and metal rose to about chest high before it was replaced by evenly placed bars of solid black metal. The bars rose to almost eight feet in height along the walls dividing one stall from another, as they moved along the front of the stall, the bars shortened into a long dip wide and low enough for the occupying horse to lift his head over and look out, before the bars swept back up to their full height at the divider. Only for the pattern to continue to each stall. The doors of most of the stalls were slid back and open to expose the freshly mucked and bedded floors. The thick scent of wood shavings and cedar hung heavy over the scent of horse sweat, hay and grain. Each door was decorated with a narrow strip of material declaring the names of the occupants, a few hooks supporting leather or colored nylon halters and lead ropes as well as mounted tie and hitch rings. The inside of boxes had large hay nets hung from walls and deep rubber bowls were rigged to the bars to support water, also strung from the bard were smaller rubber containers that when taken the time to look into, had a few grains and oats left sticking to the material with drying saliva. All looked as if it had been freshly turned and stocked.

The left side of the stable barn was majorly occupied by a mountain of stacked square bales of brome and timothy hay. Further down the barn, where the hay bales ended was a large, isolated stall that was identical to the ones across from it save that the floor and walls were covered by a thick rubber matting and there was a black, nylon tarp rolled and pinned into place above the bars that could be dropped and fixed to created total isolation.

On the other side of this stall was an enclosed room, much in the style of the ranch home, it had a large double door entrance that was currently left thrown open, but anyone in the aisle could look into the room due to a large, single planed window of thick plexiglass that ran the length of the room. Along the outer wall, below the glass, was a row of massive metal drum containers, each labeled with a name like 'Producer's Pride 10% Sweet Feed' or 'Nutrina Senior Formula' or 'Purina Mare and Foal'.

At the end of the enclosed room was a large area where the walls and floor were laid with rough stone tiles. The far wall was occupied by a series of tie and hitch rings above a line of faucets and the coils of rubber hoses and showerheads. Along one side of the wall was a wide shelf that was heavily laden with bottles of multicolored liquids marked as shampoos for both aesthetics and medicinal purposes, brushes and rolls of show ribbon and bottles of specialty products like 'hoof shine' and 'coat whitener'.

Above their heads was a second floor, a wide loft that was packed with more square bales of hay. The only access a slender ladder braced against the edge and railing of the loft.

Spock's nose crinkled at the warm dry air circulating in the barn, there was no dampness or scent of mold or decaying and dusty hay. The bales must have been bought fairly recently.

Jim led Spock and Yellow Wolf down the center of the aisle, dust kicking up under their steps. The Overo buckskin's fur paled in the artificial light to a gilded tawny color and his white markings and blue in his eyes standing out more predominantly.

Spock looked a head, along the line of stalls there was another horse standing tied by a green halter and lead line to a stall door. This horse was slightly smaller than Yellow Wolf but had a similar solid and compact conformation. It stood with it's ears swayed, eyes half-lidded and a rear hoof turned back in a rest position. The animal's coat was a very pale creme, even paler tail and mane. All four legs sported tall white socks and a wide blaze ran from between the horse's eyes down to it's nostrils.

Yellow Wolf nickered at the smaller horse and the animal perked his ears and flared his nostrils, large brown eyes rolling to look in their direction but no other movement came from the horse.

"That's Honeycatcher. He's a champagne cremello Quarter Aussie cross… that's what his colored is called and his breeding… part Quarter Horse part Australian Stock Horse." Jim motioned towards the horse as they closed the distance between, adding the last explanation almost as an after thought.

Jim stopped suddenly and reached to lift a blue nylon halter from a hook on the stall door next to them. He didn't have to turn far as Yellow Wolf crowed in and dropped his head to accept the tack as Jim slipped it into place and buckled the strap behind his ears. Jim reached for a blue and white woven lead rope and linked the snap hook into place on the halter chin ring with a click.

Jim walked away towards the open doors of the enclosed room, leaving Spock to make his own decision to stay with the two tawny horses. The First Officer hesitated as the two animals looked at him expectantly before swiftly moved to follow. As Spock made to cross the threshold he balked, barely avoiding a head long collision with Cody as she exited the room laden down with tack.

She was dressed in a pair of faded jeans and Ariat Barn/Yard boots. She wore a red tee shirt layered over a black long sleeve that she had pulled up to bunch at her elbows and a black Stetson settled on her hair draping around her neck in a sheet. The bracelets and necklaces still gracing her wrists and throat. Thrown over her shoulder was a thick, green fleece saddle pad, black suede leather saddle bags and a black leather bridle and reins. Hefted in her hands was a large, black leather Weaver rancher saddle.

She started, grey eyes flashing in surprise as she checked her steps in the doorway.

For a fraction of a second it was clear Cody didn't recognize him. Then Spock's face stimulated some memory and the hybrid was graced with a gentle, welcoming smile.

She shifted the saddle to one hand, her grip wrapped around the swell into the gap against the seat. She braced the saddle against her hip and lifted her other, making a slight twitching wave in greeting.

Unsure of any other way to reciprocate the greeting Spock lifted his hand and showed her his palm.

She seemed satisfied, giving him another small smile before she twisted to the side and stepped down out of the doorway and crossing the aisle towards Honeycatcher. Bounding on her heels, short legs working over time was the Welsh Corgi, Situpsa. The little dog cast Spock a look and let out a sharp, little bark and as Cody could not hear the animal he escaped without reprimand.

"Quit!" Jim barked from somewhere in the room, making the little dog jump and race to follow Cody.

Almost escaped without reprimand.

Spock looked over his shoulder, watching her as she looped the bridle and saddle bags over a hook on the stall door and draped the green blanket over Honeycatcher's back.

The half-Vulcan crossed into the enclosed room and surveyed his surroundings. The room was even more alien to him than the rest of the ranch. While Vulcans took some pride in their achievements and any relics they possessed they did not condone owning overt objects and most certainly did not put them on display. The few glass cases of academic and physical training awards and line of plaques in the main hall of Starfleet Academy was not enough preparation for the shock of the Chicalato trophy room.

To his left, under the large plexiglass window was an area that resembled a kind of lounge. There were plush chocolate colored sofas pushed against the wall and circling around a stone work fireplace that remained unlit but packed with hunks of wood. Curled in the corner of one couch was the large, albino German Shepherd Canteska; the dog lifted his head, cocked his ears at Spock before returning to his doze.

Their was a low, dark wood coffee table and a large, thick brown rug that looked to be made of some kind of animal fur was stretched across the hardwood floor. There was a small wooden table and a set of four straight backed chairs off to the side and on the far wall was a second plexiglass plane window that looked out on an adjacent building of an enclosed and indoor arena. Next to this window was a set of double doors that led directly into the dirt packed area and Spock realized for the first time that the door were unusually wide and the path between them across the hardwood floor was unusually scarred.

It was easy to come to the conclusion that tacked horses were led directly through the double doors, across the enclosed room from the stalls into the arena.

All along the walls were framed photographs or horses, both standing free and under saddle, as well as framed and matted pedigrees and award certificates. There were strings of colored ribbon prizes, some mounted specifically next to a photograph and others hung for the mere appeal others were exhibitor awards for cattle or livestock other than horses. Several shelves supported the heavy weight of silver, gold and platinum cups, trophies, ornate belt buckles, award dishes, heavy plaques. A structure made of welded metal was mounted on the wall and settled on five individual racks were saddles that were made of the smoothest leather and heavy with etched and enameled silver or gold and were accompanied by matching bridles and breast collars, also equally heavy with hardware; award saddles.

A small glass faced cabinet stood at the end of this wall of accomplishments and within it where unmistakable awards. Spock indulged his curiosity and moved closer to examine the contents. On the top shelf were five display mannequin throats, designed to show off necklaces. Instead each sported a thick ribbon that bore the weight of Terran Olympic medals. Three silver, one bronze and a gold, all for events on horse back. Three seemed older, their ribbons faded and slightly frayed, but the other two were fairly recent, won in the last twenty years or so.

On the second shelf was an assortment of awards all sporting a similar logo for the World Equestrian Games. Again the dates varied, some were from a few years previous to some dating as far back as the early twenty first century. The third shelf was similar except the awards were emblazoned with the logos and committee approval of the Pan Am Equestrian Games and the Annual Rolex Eventing and Dressage Competition. The fourth displayed awards and certificates and cups from the National Rodeo and Horseshow that took place annually in Las Vegas, Nevada, most of them given for events called 'reining' or 'cutting'.

Spock straightened and turned to the depth of the room that took on an entirely different personality to the awards display, lounge and observation room behind him.

The majority of the walls and floor were occupied by tack and nearly all of it Western styled. Bridles, headstalls, reins, free standing bits, halters, lead ropes and breast collars of all varying designs, shapes and shades of natural and dyed leathers were hung from rounded hooks on the wall. Rails built into the wall below them were laden with saddle pads of different designs, colors and materials. There was a wooden container holding tins of saddle soap, leather treatment and stained polish rags and a smaller box packed with multicolored rolls of leg bandages and work out boots. The slender coils of lariats and woven lassos were tied with strips of leather and hung from hooks. There were mounted racks on the wall and standing supports on the floor that bore the weight of an assortment of saddles. Some new and other so old and ancient they looked to be for display only. They were all shapes and sizes, both adult rider and a few for children; high cantles, low cantles, rounded and square skirts, short horns, long horns and one with no horn at all on the swell, seats made of fleece padding or smooth stitched leather, some tipped with the edge of silver and others with burnished steel, there were saddles that looked to weigh only a few pounds and others looked so heavy and thick Spock would second guessed his own ability to lift them. Weaver, Circle Y, Reinsman and Hartford logos were burned or embossed into fenders. Tooled designs of simplistic and repetitive basket weaves or honeycombs as well as carefully and artfully done carvings of floral designs, vines, animal paw prints and the shapes of horseshoes were stamped into the leather decoratively on skirts, fenders and stirrups. There were at least fifteen Western saddles, each different and at the far end of the line of tack was a small collection of saddles, martingales, pads and bridles devoted to the English, Dressage and Jumping disciplines of riding.

Along the back wall was a massive, wooden container. The closed lid secured with a combination lock. Above it where shelves stocked with brushes, combs, shipping boots and halters and large folded squares of material that shook out to fly and rain sheets, turn out rugs and horse blankets designed to protect an animal against the elements or a ride in a stock or slant trailer.

Opposite the collection of tack was a set of shelves mounted around a glass faced refrigerator and a four foot by four foot white board hung on the wall. The shelves were stocked with all sizes of jars, bottles, and odd shaped containers packed with multicolored pastes, liquids and capsules designed for veterinary needs. There were slim and large boxes covered in warnings and miniscule writing, containers filled to the brim with gauze pads, cloth bandages, ace wraps, medical tape, spools of thick surgical thread, needles, hypodermics, syringes, and hyposprays. One shelf sported a neat assortment of soaking and injury boots and at one end. Another was filled only with large containers labeled as vitamins and supplements. The glass refrigerator was packed full of thin glass jars, opaque bottles, ice packs, sterile bags and containers full of natural healing roots or sprigs of plants and herbs and other delicate concoctions that needed continuous refrigeration. The white board above was marked of with thin black tape to make a spreadsheet that sported the written names of horses or other livestock, their stall numbers and a description of the medications and treatments, dosages and frequency of them that each animal was in need of. At the bottom of the board was a space with the name: Doc Strain – 675.0982 _'…for emergencies…'_.

Spock looked over the orderly and efficient way the medical supplies were organized and inventoried with approval. He had the slight impression, bred only by keen observation and familiarity, that Doctor McCoy may have had some hand in the display.

Spock turned his focus back to Jim, crossing closer to where the young captain was collecting his tack. Draped over his shoulder was a blue saddle pad and a bitless bridle made of honey colored leather and a nose band of rolled and woven rawhide. He was positioning and adjusting the woven rope cinch, breast collar, far side fender and stirrup of a large rancher stock saddle also made of smooth, honey colored leather and burnish steel metal work. The seat was dark chocolate suede and the logo of Weaver stood out on the swell as well as the bridle and reins. Along the edges of the saddle were the slender, rolling tooled designs of a string of barbed wire. Screwed into the leather along the ridge of the cantle was a silver plate engraved with a serial number, the address of the Native Sky Ranch and the name 'James Tiberius Kirk'.

Sitting on the floor next to him, large ears perked forward and head cocked was a third German Shepherd. This animal's fur was longer and denser than Nemo A534 or Canteska's. The pelt was majority inky black save for touches of cinnamon brown above the eyes, in a bib around it's jaws and neat socks on all four paws. A wide leather collar identical to the collars of the other three dogs was buckled around it's throat.

The animal's amber eyes turned and locked on Spock, the dog's hair bristled along it's neck and lips curled as it rose to it's paws and turned to stare down Spock, growling.

The First Officer stilled but Jim's voice snapped over the growl and the German Shepherd instantly dropped to it's belly on the floor.

"Wagi! _Iyena!_" Jim's barked protectively in Lakota.

Wagi dropped her head to her paws and made no noise.

"Let him alone! You hear me?" Jim used the same, low harsh tone. "You let him alone."

Wagi only eyed Spock traitorously but did not move or growl. Spock watched the dog for another moment before confidently walking forward and moving around the animal.

"She's a little protective and aggressive." Jim's tone sounded slightly apologetic. "Get Wagi. Go to Cody."

The dark German Shepherd launched to her paws and streaked from their presence. Jim sighed and turned his attention back to the saddle.

"I summarize that she has suffered at the hands of strangers to merit such a reaction."

"No actually. That's a pretty typical Shepherd reaction. They're really protective and attached to their owners and handlers. Nemo A534 doesn't act like that because he was trained to help everyone on sight and Canteska's just has years and years of exposure to mellow his behavior… granted if you try to attack me or Cody he'd kill you."

"He would make the attempt-"

"No." Jim looked up at Spock as he hefted the barbed wire saddle off it's stand with one hand. "He'd _kill_ you."

Spock narrowed his eyes shrewdly at Jim as the young captain moved to maneuver passed Spock, lugging the saddle and tack. Spock watched the display for a moment before reaching out and lightly slipping the bridle and saddle pad off Jim's shoulder and cradling them in his own arms.

The blonde lifted an eyebrow at him in question.

"I do not understand your tendency to make activities more difficult for yourself than it is necessary. It would have been logical to ask for my assistance." Spock explained, Jim let out a tired, slight sigh and twitched one shoulder.

"If you're going to assist grab my ropes and bags for me please." Jim motioned towards the stand he'd just relieved were a set of dark canvas saddle bags and two coils of woven, rawhide lariat. Spock collected the objects and followed on Jim's heels out of the tack and trophy room back into the aisle. As they stepped out Cody was moving to cross back in. Her eyes flicked to Spock toting Jim's excess gear and with a sly smile her hands swiftly wove a string of signs.

His hands full of the saddle, Jim's head tilted back proudly and he made no voice or signed answer. But as he walked passed Jim kicked out, hooking his foot under Cody's ankle and yanked it up. The petite woman gracefully disentangled herself and hopped back with a silent grin, turning into the tack room, Situpsa once again bouncing double time on her heels to keep up.

"May I inquire as to what Ms-"

"Cody." Jim sighed moving to set the saddle down next to Yellow Wolf, standing it up on the swell and horn. He reached to take the gear from Spock's arms and draped them over the reared up end of the saddle with a casual expertise only achieved through repetitive experience.

"… as to what she communicated to provoke your reaction." Spock finished.

"She was teasing me. Something about my hands going soft." Jim shrugged and ducked under Yellow Wolf's neck to reach into a bucket between the two horses and retrieved a stiff brush.

"I do not understand the insult implied of the texture and give of the epidermis of your hands."

Jim quirked his lips slightly as he started to swiftly groom the Overo buckskin in long, smooth strokes.

"She meant me letting other people do my work for me. Ranchers and trainers take a lot of pride in their calluses and scars, it's a reminder of what they've achieved and what they can do. When someone gets to a point of power or mentality that they start letting others do the work for them 'their hands go soft'. Get it?" Jim asked, working around the stud horse's rump, swiping away dirt and dust lodged in the fine pelt of hair.

"I believe so." He attention snapped to the entrance to the tack room as Cody and Situpsa trotted out, the former carrying a datapad that looked slightly battered and dressed in a fleece and suede coat that looked to be identical to the one Jim currently wore. In one arm she carried an antique and primitive but highly polished projectile hunting rifle; the name 'Winchester' and the caliber '.30 Aut Six' was embossed on the sleek barrel. She moved to where Honeycatcher stood now fully saddled, and slid the pad into one of her bags and holstered the rifle into a saddle mounted holster, strapping it down. She looked over her shoulder and caught Jim's eye. Her hands swiftly twitched out a few signs and Jim responded with a curt nod and quickened the pace of his movements.

Situpsa dropped to his belly with a whine next to Wagi in the dirt a few yards away from the tied horses.

Spock lifted his eyebrows. "Jim-"

"We're running late." Jim explained, finishing brushing the horse and dropping the stiff brush into the bucket. Instead of asking Spock to take a step back Jim reached out and lightly settled his hand on the hybrid's sternum and pushed gently. Spock could easily could have resisted, his strength nearly triple that of the human, but in his core Spock felt the thread tied into place twitch and curl, humming gently at Jim's touch, reaching out to the constant and rumbling chatter of the whispered language across Jim's skin and coiling in his joints.

Spock submitted, stepping back, away from the pressure and touch until Jim's hand moved and went to work draping the pad and then the saddle into place across Yellow Wolf's back, settling the thick, sheepskin underside snuggly and high on the horse's shoulder. Spock watched as Jim made smooth and practiced moves, his hands steady and calm never moving more than the absolutely necessary amount. The young captain reached under Yellow Wolf and pulled the cinch across his belly, then easily slid a leather cinch strap through the buckle and tightened it up under the horse's gut, tying the cinch into place with a simple looped knot through the D-bar in the saddle. Jim stepped around, bucking the breast collar across the horse's chest then linked it between the front legs to a metal loop on the cinch. Jim grabbed the two lariats and saddle bags, roughly tossing the latter into place behind the cantle as he used one hand to slip knot the coils of raw hide rope to the saddle horn. Once the lariats were secure Jim buckled the saddle bags into place, flipping the nearest one open and checking the status of its contents before sliding a boot into the near side stirrup to lever himself up and drape his stomach awkwardly over the seat and cantle to open and glance through the other bag. He dropped back to the earth with a grunt and snagged the bitless bridle off the hitch hook on the stall door and easily slid into place over Yellow Wolf's blue nylon halter. Jim slid the Overo buckskin's ears and fetlock through the gap above the browband and snugged the nose band firmly into place across Yellow Wolf's nasal bone.

"I understood the practice that riding was done with a piece of metal hardware called a bit fitted between the animal's teeth as a form of pressure and release navigation method." Spock's monotone voice broke the otherwise silent, but charged air around the three humanoids, two canines and two equines.

"Yeah normally but when they're trained really well or have a really soft mouth you can use a bosal." Jim shrugged one shoulder as he and Cody simultaneously untied their horse's lead ropes and looped them loosely around the saddle horns.

"A bosal?"

"A bitless bridle." Jim's fingers brushed the rolled rawhide nose band. "I like 'em better than bits… except maybe a Spade bit… I don't need one for Wolfie. I could probably ride him bridle less and bareback out of here if I wanted to."

It took a second for the young captain to realize his boast, his head ducked slightly and Spock was more than a little surprised to see a ting of pink across his cheek bones. Spock's attention twitched away from his captain only for a moment when Cody made the swift move of vaulting up onto Honeycatcher's back, settling herself into the seat and her boots locking into the stirrups. Spock expected her to take the reins immediately to keep the horse in control.

Instead Cody's arms stretched up to her head, lifting the hat and smoothing her hair. Spock's keen eyes and observations skills were the only reason he saw the roll of contracted muscle along Cody's thigh and calf as she pressed her knee and heel into the horse's side.

Within ten seconds of the command being given Honeycatcher planted his hind quarters, pivoted one hundred and eighty degrees on his rear hooves and set off as a slow walk around Yellow Wolf's rear end and ambled, head low to the ground, towards the open doors of the stable barn.

And still Cody did not take the reins, settling her hands on her hips instead as the cremello walked under her.

"Jim, to return to my previous inquiry concerning Yellow Wolf's name-"

"I told you Spock." Jim grunted out the sentence as with a fluid motion he slid his boot into the stirrup and vaulted into the seat of the saddle, bending over to slide his other boot into place. Unlike Cody his hands took up the reins, but his fingers only held and brushed the leather straps with a nearly non-existent touch it was so light. As he took his place astride the horse the whispered, churning language of ancient wordless and silent rumbles flared and solidified so intensely it could have manifested itself physically as another layer of skin on the blonde.

The soft hum in Spock's core flared almost jealously as Jim's tightly controlled and restrained chanting met and melded seamlessly with the dull roar and of the purely feral whispering rolling off Yellow Wolf.

"Wolves aren't evil. They're just predators, they do what they have to do to survive. They'd rather run from humans than try and kill one. Wolfie's name is what it is because that's… just what his name is."

Jim's far side knee and heel pressed into the Overo buckskin's side and his hand gave the barest twitch of the reins linked to the bosal. Yellow Wolf sharply and smoothly pivoted on his rear, swinging quickly towards Spock. The half-Vulcan took a reflexive step back but Yellow Wolf had stopped moving with more than enough room between his shoulder and Spock's body.

"Then, Jim, as you have explained the species to be entirely without malice your fear of them is illogical and unfounded." Spock responded his head tilted back to look up at Jim, wondering if he should risk touching Yellow Wolf.

Jim visibly bristled, making the First Officer's eyebrows raise in question.

"I've got my reasons Spock." He grit out.

"I request further explanation."

Jim's bristled even more and looked Spock dead in the eye for a few long seconds before letting out a rush of air from his chest. He reached up to pull off his Stetson with one hand and lifted the other to lightly trace his fingers over a series of spidery discolorations and carved lines along the side of his jaw and cheek. Spock's eyes were dawn instantly to the long healed scars, not for the first time.

"When I was about eight Cody convinced Ben to bring me with them to come visit some relatives up here in Montana. You know me Spock, as soon as I lost interest I walked off, started wandering around in the back woods… while I was alone Kaneonuskatewe cornered me."

"Pardon?"

Jim knew exactly what Spock was asking for clarification on. "Kaneonuskatewe… 'He-Walks-On-Four-Claws'… the Chief of the Wolf Clan… the spirit pack… Kaneonuskatwe is a dead thing that has a taste for human flesh, a wolf as big as a man with only one eye and missing half his face and when he howls he raised the spirit pack to hunt. They go for kids 'cause they can only eat innocent meat. While I was walking around Kaneonuskatewe scented me out and cornered me. I was screaming for help, praying and begging but Kaneonuskatewe wouldn't bargain. He went for my throat but when I tried to duck away his jaws got me around the face instead."

Jim's free hand twisted into a poor mimic of teeth or claws then he dug them into his cheek along the scars.

"He started shaking, almost broke my neck but Ben heard me screaming, he a couple of the relatives were looking for me. When they came Kaneonuskatewe let go and ran off. Not even a dead wolf has the courage to face five men alone. So yeah Spock. I have a reason I'm afraid of wolves."

Spock openly stared at the young captain. The hybrid was well aware that Jim did not follow a mainstream of religious belief. Jim had expressed, in earnest, to Spock on his belief that the horse was sacred. Vulcan culture and training gave a little room for such devotions to religion.

But Jim couldn't possibly believe that he'd been attacked and scarred by the ghost of a wolf.

"I do not appreciate being lied to or told fiction creations in place of truth." Spock said coldly.

"It is the truth." Jim bit out, there was a hard edge of silver in his eyes and Spock recognized the bitterness dulling the cerulean when only moments ago they had been flooded with exhausted longing, loneliness and a plead for acceptance.

It made Spock's gut's twist slightly but he continued, he could almost physically hear threads of their fledgling friendship snapping and unraveling as he spoke. Some form a damage control was in order. "Perhaps an embellishment-"

"It's the truth Spock. It's wasn't a dog or a coyote or even just another wolf. It wasn't a nightmare or a lie or some exciting story Cody and I worked up together to get a few shivers around the fire. It happened to me exactly as I just told you."

"You perception was skewed then. You size and age at the time would make the animal appear larger and fear make him more fierce and violent than a wolf from afar. Your mind has convinced you, blending reality with a myth you were told before or after the event."

Jim's eyes flooded steel grey, Spock caught a flash of sheer pain in them before they closed off into dull masks. Under Jim's weight Yellow Wolf tensed and nickered softly, ears twitching as the change of atmosphere and feeling Jim's emotions.

Before the young captain could retaliate a sharp whistle cut through the air. A command to be followed immediately and without question.

It took Spock a moment to realize the whistle had come from Cody, waiting at the open doors of the barn. It was another moment of thought for the idea to set into the hybrid that the whistle was the first noise he had heard come from the petite woman. Wagi and Situpsa launched to their feet and streaked down the aisle and out the door, their ears pinned and jaws flung wide. Jim's eyes stayed locked on Spock, but his tongue clicked against the inside of his cheek and his knees pressed into Yellow Wolf's shoulders.

The Overo buckskin broke into a quick trot, head thrown up, tail lifted and his hooves moving in a smooth animated pace. The horse nickered and Jim's eyes tore away from Spock to look towards Cody.

The half-Vulcan felt a sharp weight settle in his stomach and before he could restrain himself the hybrid broke into a quick jog, catching up and loping at Yellow Wolf's side evenly. Spock titled his head back to look Jim in the face, trying to catch his eye.

"Jim-"

"We'll be back in three or four hours if there's no trouble." Jim's voice was like the hard edge of a stone but the slight waver of hurt rang true in his words. "Cody said that we can chat about it but she wants to hit Mr. Cartwright's produce stand and get fresher roughage and she wants to go to the outfitter and get you clothes that fit. Thermal stuff and jeans, Casper's stuff won't be enough soon."

"Unecess-"

"Yes necessary. You think you're cold now." A head of them Cody and Honeycatcher had broken into a trot, leading out of the stable barn and across the yard to a line of fence and pipe gate. Spock watched in mild fascination as the woman edged the horse up to the gate, bent and deftly unchained it before instructing the horse to side step, with the gate pressed against his shoulder, away from the post to hold it open.

Spock checked his pace, knowing he was not yet welcome passed this point. The two dogs raced ahead, disappearing into the dark. Jim and Yellow Wolf trotted through the gap, then Cody and Honeycatcher maneuvered sideways through the gate, pulling it with them and over until Cody reached back and easily chained it back into place. She and Jim paused as the young captain looked over the gate, back at Spock.

"If you need help there's a radio on the counter, it's set to channel two. Call over it and I'll respond." Jim's tone was still stiff.

"Jim-"

"Don't. I'm already making Wolfie nervous. But Spock, why in Hell would I lie about something like that? Especially to you. I thought I didn't have to prove anything to you."

Spock wholly and completely accepted the flare of emotion that rushed up to bubble in the base of his throat. Anger and a throbbing dull pain that rooted in the cavity of his chest at the accusing and bitten words from the young captain. Spock knew that it was Jim feeling the ache of strained or perhaps snapped trust but Spock did not and would not allow the assault.

Here was no other way to put it… the accusation had hurt Spock's feelings.

He hardened so deeply that his voice was strained when he spoke. "_I_ was under the impression that you were fully aware of my nature as a logical being that I would not easily accept events related to me of a supposedly supernatural nature."

Spock might as well had slapped Jim across the face, the silver in his eyes dissolved and the mask crashed away for the raw shock that pooled in his cerulean retinas and he stared at Spock abashed.

Cody noticed for the first time something was off. She leaned forward in her saddle to look at Jim's face, her eyebrow's lifting at the expression and her gaze flicked between him and Spock for a moment before She snapped her fingers in front of Jim to get his attention. Wide cerulean eyes settled on the petite woman her hands twitched out some inquiry in signs.

It seemed to take a moment before what she said had processed in Jim's mind and he responded with a long, quickly dealt out series of signs. Spock watched his hands twist and carve shapes in the air and the half-Vulcan determined in that moment to learn to communicate fluently in sign language.

After Jim's hands had stilled, Cody's storm grey eyes moved from the young captain to Spock then back again.

The blur of movement was accompanied by a ringing slap that sounded like a gunshot in the quiet dark, making the two horse jump slightly as Cody boxed Jim hard across his ear. The young captain yelped and cursed, his hand flying to his ear and rubbing gingerly at the intense pain. A string of obscenities trickled from his lips in several Federation languages, including what Spock supposed was Lakota and surprised to hear Vulcan. Jim's face flushed in pain.

As the curses died down a noise that could only be called a whimper flushed from his throat and when eyes opened they were watering slightly in pain.

A primeval part of Spock was gratified to see the young captain punished but another stronger and closer to the surface part twisted unhappily to see Jim in pain.

"God…" Jim panted gently rubbing the shell of his ear and drawing his hand away to look at his fingertips, as if expecting them to be smeared in blood. Spock had no idea that the human ear was so sensitive… of course there was no means to make a comparison and no way to gauge Cody's strength.

"God… that hurt… I don't think I really…" Jim glared mutinously at Cody but flicked his eyes to Spock and the flush across his face took on a sickly color. "… I did deserve that…."

The young captain sighed and Yellow Wolf relaxed under him. When Jim spoke his hands traced and wove designs into the air for Cody to read. Spock watched as the shock in his eyes bled away to leave a circlet of some emotion akin to shame and plead for acceptance.

"Spock… It's not my place to change your nature, it never will be and I would _never_ try… not knowingly… do you believe me?"

Spock silently let out a crushed ball of air from his chest, some of the ache and all of the anger fled him, calming back into it's restraints.

"Of course, Jim, as it is not in _your_ nature to do so."

It was the truth in its purest form. Spock knew that Jim was a creator by nature, that the young blonde flourished with the chance to help things around him grow and expand, train them into potential by means of their greatest strengths. All done with a quiet calm and unshakeable patience, Spock had been and was still sometimes astounded by the sheer level of empathy that Jim displayed.

For the young captain to revert to the destructive and harsh behavior of forcing and twisted the nature of another to bend to his will was so grotesquely out of character it turned Spock's stomach.

It was perhaps why Spock had reacted so badly to Jim's accusation.

The hybrid caught Jim's eye and the young captain dipped his head.

"You're right Spock. You need to be here."

The hybrid quirked an eyebrow.

"You can give Cody a hand keeping me in check." Jim's hands twisted out the words in signs and Cody nodded approvingly at them. The grey eyed woman cast Spock a slight and small smile, lifting her hand again in the twitching wave as she lifted the reins with the other. Honeycatcher pivoted on his rear legs and started walking into the dark.

Jim glanced back at her then looked back at Spock. There was a slight pang of loneliness in the silver edge of his eyes as it settled back into place and as Spock watched as Jim's humanity seemed to slowly deteriorate as the silent chanting of ancient words between him and Yellow Wolf flared back into intensity, braiding together in a single pulsing entity that existed only in the barest movements of hands and twitches of tawny furred flesh. If Spock had been privy to more exposure to Cody he would have seen the same change, same blending of being over come the deaf woman and the cremello horse as it did Jim and the Overo buckskin. As Spock looked on Jim and Yellow Wolf's breathing pattern matched and it seemed as if their heartbeats began a single chorus.

And oddly, Spock felt suddenly and terribly excluded and alone in their company.

"Call if you need, we'll be back soon."

Even the words sounded rough, as if on the edge of a growl. The hybrid only dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement.

It seemed it had been hard for Jim to wait even for that, for as soon as he got the gesture Jim and Yellow Wolf whirled and lunged into a full gallop, soaring over the earth in a thunder and rumble of hoof beats and gave a simultaneous snort of raw emotion that could only be called joy.

They streaked passed Cody and Honeycatcher and crashed on into the dark. The older pair of partners gave a noise like parents looking on at the awkward puppyish attempts of their charges and broke into a solid, steady lope, melting into the shadows in Jim's wake.

Spock stood for a moment longer, straining his ears, tuning to the sound of rolling hoof beats before turning quietly and strode across the yard in the pale barn light, up the steps and across the porch into the kitchen of the ranch home. Spock stood and listened to the still of the building. Somewhere on the second floor a clock ticked away the minutes and he heard the shifting and groaning of the foundation as the house shifted and settled. He stripped from the extra warmth of the corduroy jacket and hung it on it's place in the mudroom.

Then he turned back to his oatmeal, now cold and congealed in the bottom of the bowl. At least he'd had his fill. He carried the bowl and spoon to the sink then replaced the brown sugar into the cupboard shelf. Spock stood still in the kitchen, at a slight loss as how to continue. His attention turned to the doorway at the sound of soft clicks of nails crossing hardwood and terra cotta tiles. Slowly Nemo A534 limped into view and stood, carefully balanced on three legs. The dog cocked his ears and head, snorting softly as his single caramel eye settled on Spock. The hybrid met the one eyed gaze for a moment before the dog turned and limped into the den, Spock followed, watching as the dog labored, stiffly climbing onto the seat of the couch and curled up in the corner. The dog's nose twitched and his eyes shut as Spock turned his attention to the floor to ceiling shelves of books. His eyes traveled over the smooth spines of embossed and printed leather and a few sleek jackets.

His eyes fell on a title and he extracted it from the other books, opening it gently and leafing to the prologue. The book was a history of the Lakota Nation, written by a historian and blood member of the tribe. Spock carefully closed the book, cradling the book as he turned and settled into the cushions of the couch next to the wounded German Shepherd. His drew up his legs, folding them in a liking design to stimulate meditation and settled the book in his lap. He shivered, once, from the chill in the air before settling himself down to read and wait for the return of Jim and Cody.

* * *

**A/N:Oh my god that took forever.**

**Dunno, this chapter was (almost) Hell. It was hard to keep it going and time on it got broken up so much. Good news is that I already started chapter four so… yeah…**

**Anyway lots and lost and LOTS of little facts and doses of facts and stuff. Some good symbolism and foreshadowing and bunches of those other little tricks of the trade that writers use… and it always helps to have a SpockJim Spat and a Kirk Blush thrown in there for good measure. **

**If anyone is 'saddle anatomy' clueless here's a good diagram that names all the parts of a Western saddle: http:// horsesynergy. org / images / saddle_diagram .jpg (without the spaces)**

**Lakota Translation: **

**Wagi (Wah-gee) – Shadow**

**Situpsa – Wags Tails**

**Canteska – White Heart**

**And 'Yellow Wolf' was the name of a champion buckskin Quarter Horse a long long LONG time ago and the only reason I know he existed is because he's in the pedigree of my mare Magic. Lots of horse names that are from her and Voodoo's pedigree are going to pop up.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Pre-Spirk/Spirk: Summary:** **The connection snapped suddenly and abruptly when Jim's hand cut between them, gently moving Spock's fingers out of the horse's reach…**

* * *

**Lost Horse Creek, Montana**

"**When you are lonely, let me be your companion. When you are tired, let me carry the load. When you need to learn, let me teach you… after all, I am your horse."**

**-Unknown**

* * *

**Chapter Four: First Lessons**

"**I have learnt silence from the talkative, toleration from the intolerant, and kindness from the unkind; yet strange, I am ungrateful to these teachers."**

**-Kahlil Gibran**

* * *

_**Native Sky Ranch**_

_**124 Flathead Road,**_

_**Lost Horse Creek, Bitterroot Mountain Range, Rocky Mountains, Ravalli County, Montana**_

_**Stardate: 2260**_

_**September 19**_

_**0927 Hours**_

…

The hours ticked by as Spock studied, falling deeper and deeper into the written history that insisted, in its own text, that it was only a fraction of a history that for most of its existence was passed on through speech and tradition. Spock was having a hard time contemplating an entire culture that had survived most of its existence without a written language. The Vulcan race had recorded its history and traditions with texts since a stage akin to the human Neanderthalism.

A twitch rushed down his spine when the oaken door swung open and the screen once crashed closed from the kitchen at his back. Spock twisted and looked over his shoulder and the back of the sofa as Cody trotted into the ranch home.

She looked a little weary, her cinnamon hair slightly tangled under her Stetson hat and her hands and clothes were covered in a solid layer of dust. She swept off her hat and brushed back her hair before shrugging out of her fleece and suede coat and tossing it over the back of a chair as she turned heading towards the sink. Her boots left a slender trail of dirt as she walked across the terra cotta tiles. In her wake trotted the three dogs, Canteska, Wagi and Situpsa. The trio of canines rushed towards their large bowel of water and the sound of sloshing liquid echoed back at the hybrid.

Cody's grey eyes lifted and caught Spock's amber ones for a second and she took a half step back, lifting her hand in the twitching wave. Spock carefully closed the book, set it on the cushions, unfolded his lanky frame from the seat and moved towards the kitchen. Cody paused and waited for him to cross the terra cotta tiles to her side. Her small, offered smile stayed in place while her hands moved to rest lightly on her hips.

Spock looked passed her, expecting Jim on her heels.

Some tension wrought between the half-Vulcan's shoulders when the blonde captain didn't make an appearance. Spock looked back to Cody, who was watching him with an odd knowing in her eyes. She motioned for him to follow her over to the refrigerator and she pulled a small, magnetized white board from the metal surface. Spock watched as she swept the message board clean then stroked a marker across the surface. When she handed it to him a neat, small scrawl of handwriting met his eyes: _Jim's in the barn_.

Spock moved to hand back the board and made for the door but stopped when Cody held up her hands, drawing his focus to her palms and fingers. Once she was sure she had his full attention, the petite woman very slowly and carefully relayed a short series of signs to Spock. The hybrid watched each small twitch and twist of her hands, waiting until she'd finished before fixing her with a raised eyebrow and a masked look of confusion.

Cody seemed to read his facial expressions as easily as if he were human. She gently pulled the board from Spock's hands and set it on the table, coaxing Spock closer and to keep his attention.

She touched the first word of the sentence then lifted her hands and made three individual signs.

Spock blinked.

Cody was signing Jim's name, spelling it out in wordless letters. Spock didn't hesitate, lifting his hands and mimicking her moves, but it seemed awkward and slow. Like he was speaking with a poor accent or a stutter and he knew it from the halted and stiff was his muscles tried to follow the well practiced and smooth actions of the petite woman.

Cody only smiled encouragingly and repeated spelling Jim's name, pushing Spock to do the same. The hybrid followed suit, finding the twitches and twists came easier with the repetition. Without prompt Spock signed Jim's name a third time and got a crooked smile from Cody.

She motioned to the next word and made a single sign for it. Spock repeated and followed Cody the rest of the way through the sentence until he was signing it as smoothly and easily as Cody was while the cinnamon haired rancher grinned, looking somewhat smug.

Spock signed the sentence a last time, knowing that it would probably be a significant communication while he was on the ranch. He felt a small, familiar elation that came to him the first time he learned a language beyond Terran Standard and Vulcan.

Spock recalled the sign Jim had showed him to give thanks and offered it to Cody, who only nodded and made a dismissive wave for Spock to go ahead out the door. The half-Vulcan moved passed her and lifted the borrowed corduroy jacket and fitted it across his shoulders.

Cody's head dropped to her chest and then twisted to look over her shoulder as Spock rushed, albeit elegantly, out the door, across the porch and into the yard. She lifted a hand to scrub the back of her neck and smiled knowingly before clapping her hands together once and making back to her mission for the sink.

Spock looked around the yard now that daylight had spilled across the land. Spock noted that there were no gardens, floral or vegetable, just a simple slope of cropped native grass. There were a few large, bent trees shading the large yard and Spock noticed a plank seat swing strung from a thick branch by lengths of rope. The wood of the seat was weathered and aged, the ropes slightly frayed, it creaked and swung slowly back and forth, eerie without the brush of a true breeze. The simple plaything seemed lonely and neglected and sorrowful. Spock felt a natural instinct to give it a wide berth and shied away from the plane object of wood and rope.

The pipe gates and fences of barbed wire and meshed fencing made for a boarder around the yard and divided up the land into a few paddocks and enclosures that were for the most part empty. In one large sectioned off pasture a group of nine horses grazed on the long native grasses or browsed on a massive round bale of hay positioned in a metal feeding ring. Some of them lifted their heads and flared their nostrils at his strange scent walking by but none of them spooked away, only watched the stranger closely.

Spock observed them as keenly as they did him. They had an assortment of heights but all maintained a similar solid, compact conformation. About half of them bore the freeze brand of numerals and letters along the arch of their neck and all of them sported the stylized cloud and NSR on their shoulders. Three of them were an assorted shade of brown with dark legs, mane and tail called bay, one was a red chestnut, there was a copper palomino, two blacks, a darkly dappled grey and a dun. Six of them sported the large, irregular white markings of an Overo Paint horse and two, the copper palomino and the red chestnut had blankets of white draped across their rumps and lower backs. The palomino had flecks of white roaned into its fur around the blanket, down the legs and across the barrel while the chestnut had large egg shaped spots of white on colored fur and spots of color on white fur.

Spock knew the patterns signified a certain breed but the name escaped him for the moment and the half-Vulcan absolved to inquire on the strange markings to Jim.

Spock followed the same path they'd taken earlier that morning across the yard to the stable barn. His eyes cast aside and he noticed Yellow Wolf and Honeycatcher turned out in a paddock with three other studs. A large, solid buckskin bore a resemblance to Yellow Wolf but did not have a single white marking on him. There was a smaller animal with a blue roan coat alike to the horse that Spock had met along the drive. His face, legs, tail and mane were pitch black but his rump carried a blanket of white alike to the chestnut, large eggs of blue fur dotted the white marking and eggs of white trailed along his spine, over his barrel and up the sides of his throat. The last stud was a large, stocky animal with ink black fur broken by large Overo Paint markings down the sides of his neck and along his barrel. He had a blank white apron face and two large blue eyes.

All five looked up and flared their nostrils at Spock, ears swiveling and skin twitching.

Yellow Wolf took a few measured steps towards Spock and let out a low nicker of recognition.

Spock locked eyes with the horse and only broke contact when he crossed into the shadow of the stable barn.

He had to side step to avoid a strange vehicle parked near the thrown open double doors of the stable barn. It had a large, leather cushioned seat and a smaller, raised seat only padded across the bench and not the back. The smaller seat was set in front of the main one and they, oddly, did not face each other. The sides of the outer shell were sleek and glinted in the filtered light, a pale brown with a swept and elegant scrolling of black and cerulean blue. But the oddest part about the vehicle was its modus of movement. There were two spoked wheels as tall as Spock's midriff on the back end of the vehicle, but where a third and fourth wheel should have been there were two long, curved shafts of wood. The thing was resting awkwardly, tilted forward and shafts dug into the earth.

Spock edged passed the vehicle and stepped into the wide aisle between the hay and the stalls. His attention shifts to a singular horse tethered about halfway down the row of stalls and to the young captain, crouching the dirt next to the animal, a hoof cradled in his hands and examining the appendage with rapt attention.

Spock approached slowly and carefully, his steps light and nearly silent in the dirt of the aisle. He was intimately aware of the danger Jim was currently in, with a hoof so close to his chest and head, though Jim himself seemed blissfully unaware.

The horse was taller and sleeker than the ones Spock had seen on his way to the stable barn. The animal's legs were long and slender, narrow rump and a slight rib cage made for a slim chest. The neck was long and arched high at the poll, eyes large, ears small and face dished slightly. The coat was a dull chestnut color, the tail and mane a similar but paler color, a small marking of white was between the horse's eyes and two of the hooves bore low socks of white. There were no brand markings on the animal, freeze or otherwise.

The horse snorted loudly and twisted to look in Spock's direction, its skin twitched and nostrils flared, weight shifting from hoof to hoof. It's eyes went wide enough that Spock could see a ring of white around the brown.

Jim's head snapped up at the horse's sudden agitation, looking up at the animal then around and caught sight of Spock. The young captain let out a tightly held sigh.

"Spock. I am dead serious about you making some noise." Jim growled and turned his attention back to the hoof, using one hand to pass a few comforting strokes along the horse's belly. "Horse's don't like quiet, makes 'em think about predators. If you keep walking around on cat's feet you deserved to get kicked in the gut."

Spock cocked his head slightly but heard no venom or anger in Jim's voice to assume that the young captain liked the idea of Spock coming to some harm.

"I will endeavor to make my presence more pronounced in the future."

Jim only grunted and twisted the hoof in his hand. The flighty horse nickered and jerked his leg a little, but Jim only passed his hand over the horse's belly in assurance at the impatient behavior.

"May I inquire as to what you are doing?"

"I think his shoe was put on wrong." Jim muttered, and used one hand to run his fingers along the edge of metal horseshoe nailed into the animal's foot.

Spock cocked his head. "Pardon?"

"His shoes. The farrier screwed it up… at least I think he did. Most of our horses are barefoot… I don't like the angle of these nails." Jim lifted the hoof, tilting it slightly and passing his fingers over a series of nubs along the outer surface of the hoof, the clipped ends of shoe nails. "Might make him founder…"

"Founder?"

"The coffin bone either rotates or sinks in the hoof. Puts 'em lame." Jim sighed and eased the foot back to the earth, patted the horse's knee and stood back to his height, eyes still on hoof as his hand passed lightly over the horse's shoulder. "See how he moves today and maybe Cody'll yank it out and we'll reset the shoe."

He seemed to be musing to himself. He reached for a strange harness made of leather straps and lightly tossed it over the nervous horse's back. The animal gave a slight jump and Jim moved immediately to comfort him, settling the horse before buckling the harness into place. His hand settled under the horse's jaw and drew the animal's head around. Jim filled his lungs and gently blew his breath into the horse's nostrils. They flared and sucked in at the shared breath and the animal seemed to calm instantly.

"Jim… this animal is different in comparison to most I have encountered thus far."

"He's not one of ours." Jim explained, tightening straps. "He's a boarder from down south. One of four. The reason they look different is because they're all gaited Saddlebreds. The owner of Belle Reve Ranch in Kentucky sends a couple up to Cody every spring to go through a year with her. They're usually already sound and gentled but Cody always seems to find something to improve or train into them. Conditioning mostly. Bill likes his horse's steady as the mountain but he's getting up there. He's been sending them more and more raw in the last couple of years. Cody gentled Time Machine here all the way down herself. Saddle, five gaits, drive, everything."

Jim patted Time Machine on the flank as he moved around the other side of the animal to secure the harness.

"You speak fondly of this horse and his breed."

Jim shrugged. "I got a soft spot for 'em. I wouldn't trade up the American rides for one but every ones entitled to a few dreams about a sports car, right?"

"I'm afraid I don't understand the analogy and the change of topic from horses to antique vehicles you have made."

Jim only quirked a smile. He unbuckled the halter, slid it from the horse's face then rebuckled it around Time Machine's throat, keeping the horse tethered in place while he slipped a bit in between the horse's teeth and bridle over his head, the piece of tack was entirely without reins. Time Machine tossed his head, snorted and chewed on the bit loudly.

"You going to give me a hand?" Jim asked as he slipped the halter from the Saddlebred's throat, looped his hand over a strap in the bridle and gave a gentle tug for the gelding to follow as the young captain started down the aisle towards the two wheel vehicle in the doorway. Time Machine snorted, shied a step away from Spock, then crowed up on Jim's side, nervously stepping on his boot heels.

Spock followed at some distance, listening to Jim murmur comforts to the horse, while the animal itself tried to twist and look back at him. Time Machine snorted at the stranger and crowed so tightly into Jim's back it nearly toppled the blonde. Jim caught himself, trying not to jerk the gelding's head in his stumble and let out a strained sigh.

"Spock, can you walk in front of me please." Jim's voice sounded tired and tight. Spock did not hesitate, giving Time Machine a wide berth and moved around until he was several feet in front of the young captain.

"_Pilamaye._ He's just using you as an excuse to throw a tantrum." Jim explained, lightly passing his free hand over the Saddlebred's flared nostrils before motioning Spock on and following with Time Machine in tow. The horse's large brown eyes fixed on Spock and ears pricked so far forward he looked to close to choking himself.

"Is this typical behavior?" Spock questioned, watching the horse closely.

"Unfortunately. I figure someone probably beat the Hell out of him at least once before Bill bought him. I thought he'd gotten better about it but he's probably figured out that you're not human and might be a new kind of threat."

Jim led the horse around the front of the vehicle and with a little coaxing had Time Machine back neatly up until he stood between the shafts.

Spock hesitated, unsure if he'd heard right, then spoke carefully. "Did you just imply that this animal was possibly abused?"

"Yeah." Jim said and there was a bitter edge of hatred in his voice. "Walk around real slowly and let him sniff your hand a little. I need you to hold his head."

Spock hesitated, thinking, then moved slowly and steadily around. As he closed the distance Time Machine twitched and shifted nervously, but stood fast in his place.

"Hold out your hand… palm up." Jim instructed, keeping his fingers moving assuringly along the side of the horse's face.

Spock resisted the disgust that boiled in his throat at offering such a sensitive point towards an animal but carefully extended his arm and held up his open palm towards the Saddlebred's nose.

Time Machine's nostrils flared wide, sucking in and blowing out warm, moist air across Spock's palm. They stood at stalemate for a few moments before with a small snort Time Machine dropped his nose into Spock's hand, swiping soft lips over his palm and fingers.

In his core the thread lurched and stretched towards the flesh to flesh contact with its raw origins.

A crackle of electricity and a tightly masked shiver trickled down Spock's spine as the brush of Time's Machine's lips, then the graze of saliva coated enamel over the heel of his hand. The sensitive, nerve packed flesh of his palm itched and twitched in a way not entirely unpleasant.

For a moment Spock's mind brushed the horse's. The raw roar of a purely alien existence and the thundering fall of whispered, ancient languages made of flesh, muscle and bone over words, syntax and grammar slammed against a glass like barrier Spock threw up haphazardly. The construction of the wall was rushed and franticly made in the last few seconds.

Made only when Spock felt and tasted the bitter acidic burn of fear and the metallic flavor of long dead and phantom pain.

Time Machine's nose nuzzled deeper into Spock's palm and the half-Vulcan was dimly aware that the horse was actually becoming more agitated, more nervous. His muscles were tightening and his breath shortening. Time Machine blew a loud breath into Spock's hand and over the glass surface of the wall between them his mind rushed a wave of devastatingly raw emotions, and flickers of colors that might have been memories that were all tinged with the quickly intensifying taste of pain and sick throb of fear.

In his core the thread of language lurched and writhed, sending a shock of what could only be sympathy pain through Spock's stomach.

The barrier between them hissed, its surface threatening to buckle as a wash of the feral language pounded into it.

With a twist of pain in his chest cavity the border cracked and Time Machine's mind flooded against Spock with a single desperate desire born of harrowed experience.

_No Hurt_

The pleading request for safety brought bile to Spock's throat and choked him. The beg for mercy slid down his spine, coiled in his core and braided itself next to the still writhing thread already there, locking itself into place.

The connection snapped suddenly and abruptly when Jim's hand cut between them, gently moving Spock's fingers out of the horse's reach as he pushed a red brown cube between Time Machine's teeth.

The horse lapped up the treat and crunched it loudly.

"Good boy. Very good boy." Jim's voice sounded distant and foggy, the twin threads in Spock's core settled, shivering and twitching unhappily but relaxing slightly at the calm, quiet tones of the whispered language churning under Jim's words.

"Spock. Sorry. I didn't mean for you to-"

"Time Machine was brutalized." Spock said quietly.

Jim went so still next to him that he could have been made of wax. Silence bit heavily between them for a moment.

"You're sure."

"Affirmative." Spock carefully lifted his eyes to meet Jim's; he was somewhat unsettled to see the cerulean almost entirely overshadowed by silver. "I am unfamiliar with the workings of an animal's mentalscape but I believe it occurred at an early stage of development. He… impressed to me, in a way, that his greatest desire was that I not cause him harm."

The dry mouthed swallow Jim made came with a noise that sounded like it had been a squashed sob. His attention snapped away from Spock and settled on Time Machine. The horse shifted impatiently. Jim gingerly lifted his free hand and settled it on the bridge of the horse's nose. The Saddlebred jerked his head up once, as if to throw of Jim's hand but only tried to nip the fabric of the blonde's sleeve. Jim's hand smoothed back and forth across the bridge of Time Machine's muzzle.

"Poor boy…" Jim voice was barely a whisper, Time Machine's large tulip ears perked forward, catching the slight breath of words.

Jim cleared his throat loudly as he dug into his pocket and extracted another cubed treat to set between the horse's lips. "I'll let Bill know… He'll probably want to walk to you, too… Hold his head for me Spock. Keep his mouth away from you hand and head, he might bite a little."

The hybrid reached forward and looped his fingers over the strap of leather and held as Jim moved around to easily lift the shafts of the vehicle up and strapped one into place along Time Machine's barrel with the harness. Jim walked around to the horse's other side and fitted the other shaft into place before snapping a long rein of leather onto one side of the bit. Jim ducked under the horse's throat and Spock's arm to fit the other rein into place. The entirety of the event was done with Jim's head ducked, eyes on the dirt and grass under their feet.

"_Pilamaye_ Spock." Jim replaced Spock's hand, his knuckles brushing across the half-Vulcan's fingers for a moment while the young captain distractedly slipped the Saddlebred another treat. "Good boy."

Time Machine snorted softly but the horse's body was seemingly to slowly relax. Jim swallowed heavily again.

"I'm sorry Spock. I'll be more careful about what horses I put you around. It's not fair to you if you touch them and all the sudden get a memory of being beaten across the face or something…" The blonde said quietly.

Spock lifted an eyebrow. "Your concern for my telepathic integrity is appreciated. But I must inquire to the statement that you imply that there are more animals in similar condition to Time Machine."

"Yeah. A lot actually, Cody breeds a few good horses out of her stock every year but they usually get sold off. Most of the horses here are adopted mustangs or rehabilitated abuse cases she picked up out of slaughter pens." Jim's voice seemed almost dead of emotion."Some of them have been through Hell…"

Spock hesitated for a moment before pressing forward. "I misunderstand the benefits of brutalizing an animal-"

"There aren't any." Jim spat and Time Machine nervously jumped at the young captain's anger.

"Then… I cannot understand the practice."

"Not everyone thinks of horses the same way Cody and I do, Spock. To some people think horses don't have souls or feelings or thoughts of their own. They think they're a machine that's only meant to do the will of the owner. Those kind of people only want their money back in flesh and sweat they take out of the horse. And when the horse can't work anymore they pawn 'em off for dog food." Jim was snarling now, his lips actually curled in bared teeth.

Time Machine nickered quietly in protest. Spock moved instantly, his hand settling firmly over Jim's wrapped around the leather of the Saddlebred's bridle, the edge of his knuckles rubbing along the side of the Saddlebred's face.

Both horse and man relaxed at the touch of the third, calming party. Spock felt the pulse of Jim's anger and the now familiar shiver of Time Machine's fear. Both ebbed and the tension went out their muscles. After a moment Spock pulled his hand away and both man and horse let out breaths that sounded shaky and rattled. Jim lifted his free hand to lightly scratch under Time Machine's jaw; the touch was delicate, light and clearly apologetic.

The horse only sighed and started to relax again.

"I hope you don't really experience how cruel some humans can be Spock."

The young captain's voice was barely above a whisper, it sounded raw and exhausted.

"You seem to intimate with the subject." Spock said at length.

Jim shrugged a single shoulder but said nothing. Spock waited a moment longer before speaking again, this time turning to new topic.

"Jim… may I inquire the purpose of harnessing Time Machine to this…"

"Is a trap… a kind of carriage."

"Yes."

"He's going to haul us around this morning." Jim, lightly stroked Time Machine's neck. The horse snorted softly and warily stretched his nose towards Spock. The half-Vulcan submitted instantly, holding out his hand, letting the gelding bump his fingers as Spock lightly traced the curve of the animal's nostril, his skin twitching at the wash of moist breath over his palm.

"We are going to use him as transport."

"Yeah."

"I assumed we were going to make transport with the vehicles I observed on the driveway."

"Why waste perfectly good and environmentally friendly horsepower?" Jim asked, quirking a small smile before it faded again. "Cody only uses the trucks for heavy hauling and showing, gas is expensive."

Spock's eyebrows raised to his hair line.

"They contain engines that function with gasoline as a fuel source?"

Jim's smile quirked. "Yes, Spock. They run on gasoline."

Spock blinked and actually twisted around to try and catch a glimpse of the sand colored Dodge truck.

"Fascinating."

Jim let out a low chuckle and turned his attention towards the door as Cody trotted into view across the porch and dropped down the steps towards them, dressed much as she had been earlier that morning. His face fell and he gently offered Spock Time Machine's head again.

"Hold him."

Jim trotted across and Cody stopped, waiting while Jim quickly signed a few strings of conversation to her. Her face stayed calm for a moment before surprise crossed it then a sorrowful and hardened resolve. She signed a few things back, Jim nodded and they moved together back to Spock and the hitched Time Machine.

"Cody says thanks for telling us about Time Machine. It'll help with the rest of his gentling." Jim said aloud as the two walked directly passed Spock and the horse. Time Machine nickered after them.

"Jim-"

The blonde instantly stopped, turned and jogged back, his hands digging in his pockets. "Here. Just another minute."

Jim slid several horse treats into Spock's free hand and jogged away in Cody's wake. The gelding dug instantly into his hand for the cubes and Spock relinquished one without protest. The sound of Time Machine's teeth and jaw working the food in Spock's ears and his nose filled with the scent of animal sweet the First Officer felt, through the slight brush of knuckles across the side of the Saddlebred's muzzle, the horse's feelings and emotions calm and the sickening heat of fear slowly faded to only a dull ache. The slight nip of teeth on his free hand sent a small flicker of pain across Spock's mind and he dutifully passed the horse another treat.

Spock side stepped a little and looked over Time Machine and the trap as Jim and Cody strode back from the confines of the stable barn. Between them was a large wicker basket that looked to be filled with thick blocks and rounded wheels of a heavy, dense substance and large glass jars full of creamy, white liquid. Between them they lifted the heavy burden into the seat of the trap and set it firmly in place.

Cody walked around and took Spock's place, motioning the Vulcan silently back towards Jim. Spock hesitated before quickly slipping Time Machine the two treats still in his hand and made the move back to stand at Jim's side.

"Jump on up." Jim instructed and stood back as carefully Spock climbed into the large leather seat and settled himself next to the basket of goods. The hybrid dipped his head and sniffed slightly at the contents.

"These items carry a distinctly dairy scent." Spock observed and shifted his legs as Jim climbed into the trap after him.

"It's cheese and cream and stuff like that." The young captain deftly climbed over the edge of the trap and settled himself into the driver's seat, his hands, lightly tangling in the reins.

"It's purpose?"

"Barter." Jim twisted slightly to speak to Spock over his shoulder before fixing his attention back on Time Machine's rump. "Might be a little bumpy at first because of his agitation so far but he'll settle down."

Jim made a distinct clucking sound, his tongue popping off the roof of his mouth. In front of him Time Machine instantly straightened up, muscles going taught and ears swiveling around to hear Jim and focus forward at the same time. Cody let go of the bridle and stepped back, making a few signs with her hands to which Jim freed one of his to respond and offered her a nod. Cody waved him on and started walking down the lawn towards the long dirt and crushed walk drive.

"Alright, Machine. Walk on." Jim gave a very slight flip of reins.

Time Machine snorted, lifted his head to its peak and proudly arched his neck elegantly, ears perked and thrown all the way forward, his tail lifted. The Saddlebred stepped forward, a few slow paces to break the trap into motion before the horse's neck arched even deeper and his legs lifted high in energetic and animated steps.

The odd feeling of being suspended rolled Spock's center of balance as Time Machine broke into a smooth trot so that the horse barely seemed to touch the earth, more floating than actually pacing. The whirring of the large wheels hummed like an insect in his ears and Spock was bumped slightly only by the uneven earth. Cody broke into a jog alongside Time Machine; her petite frame seemed dwarfed by the tall horse. The Saddlebred moved at Jim's light touch from the long reins, shifting his direction fractionally and rolling his weight as the earth sloped down so the trap didn't roll forward and bump his rear legs. Cody trotted ahead, keeping pace for a few long minutes until the wheels of the trap settled into the ruts of the dirt and gravel drive. Then the petite rancher dropped back and deftly leapt from the earth into the carriage next to Spock. She stood for a moment, bracing herself against the forward movement before dropping into the leather seat next to Spock and the basket of cheese and cream. She swept of her Stetson, brushed cinnamon and grey streaked hair back and settled the hat back into place.

Spock waited until Cody graced him with a slight grin before she settled back into her corner of the seat, set her Stetson back into place, and draped her arms lightly over the back of the seat. Spock turned his attention back to the rapidly passing scenery, though normally his eyes fell and stayed on either Jim's back or the rolling spine and rump of Time Machine.

Spock's eyes followed the scenery as it rolled by. It was the same as it had been a little over a day before. The same roll of posted fence, the same long grasses and the late, now dying, blossoms clinging as the fall started to set it. Except it all moved by with a fast fluidity that was unnatural. The high kneed, fast gait of the Saddlebred at the front of the trap, pulling their weight effortlessly while seeming to bounce on his own hooves, flying over the earth at the hot trot. Only Jim's gentle pull on the reins kept Time Machine from breaking to a faster pace, settling hot nerves and coaxing a good performance over speed.

Spock drew up the few memories he'd seen of carriages pulled by horses, both from the many books that Jim supplied him and from the vids and educational programs of pre automobile human society. Jim was missing one thing that was always present in those images.

A whip.

Spock cannot help but approve.

He pulled his eyes from the scenery to look at Cody. The petite woman was relaxed, draped lightly across her corner of the seat but she had obviously tempered her placement to avoid physical contact with Spock, doing what she could to give him the personal space Vulcans preferred as well as show her respect for his telepathic integrity.

At least that's the reason Spock assured himself of.

He did not understand Cody, as an individual or in a linguistic sense. She was alien to him; silent like a Vulcan elder and perhaps more so, but warm and welcoming as any human. She was slight and slender in a deeply feminine way but she exuded a strength of body that surpassed most males. Externally she seemed steadfast, set in her ways and unshakeable, yet she made way for a stranger to take up a place in her home and altered her behavior to his comfort. She dutifully refused to change the nature of those around her but she taught, molded and shaped them freely.

Spock looks closely at the exposed planes of tawny skin of her hands, the curve of her throat and the profile of her face and Spock cannot recall seeing someone so scarred. There were little discolored marks here and there, nicks that danced across her knuckles and back of her hands, then there were stripes of pearled scar tissue over her wrists and one that railed from her hair line over her eye and down to the ridge of her cheek bone, it cut her eyebrow in half and her eyelid bore a matching line of the scar when she blinked. There was a deep, ugly gouge of carved into her flesh that ran from her ear, through the juncture of her jaw and along the curve of her throat to disappear under her collar. And that was on the flesh he could see.

There was a weariness in her grey eyes. They seemed... ancient. As if she had seen the first sunrise and seemed to know when the last would occur. An exhaustion lingered at the edges of her eyes that could only stem from experience and deep personal horror but a sound will to carry on despite, to bear the weight of it in silence and through it they lost none of their softness, none of their quiet and gentle compassion. Looking at her, watching the edge of her grey eyes Spock wondered if the age in them was her own or the lingering imprint of the souls of the many horses that had come under her hand or it was born of both.

What was it about this aesthetically delicate human that made her a creature of near supernatural origins? Deaf and mute, a last gasp of a dying race, a living paradox, a healer and a teacher, protector and guardian, perhaps a victim as well as an offender if the harsh tale of scars were to be believed.

Cody's twisted to look at him, mistaking Spock's examination for the hybrid trying to catch her eye. She lifted an eyebrow and cocked her head slightly, waiting for Spock to speak or make some other fumbled attempt at communication.

The hybrid held her gaze for a moment before fixing his eyes on a spot between Jim's shoulder blades. In his peripheral vision Spock saw her features take on a confused and concerned look. The half-Vulcan braced, waiting for some sort of intervention but all her got was a long look before Cody lightly tipped her hat down to cover her eyes and seemed to settle back into her corner for a nap.

Spock watched her for a moment out of the corner of his eye, assessing the possibility of her covertly observing himself and Jim.

Spock settled for the quiet, listening to the steady whir of the trap wheels and the rumble of Time Machine's hooves connecting with earth. Jim seemed focused, attentive on his task at keeping the young horse calm and in performance. Either too busy or unsure about his ability to split his attention from the Saddlebred.

Spock contended himself with watching the native flora coast by. He had the time and the energy now to examine them from his perch in the leather seat for a moment before they swept by. A wild hair struck Spock suddenly and curiosity twisted him in his seat to look back the way they'd come and look towards the sky.

He'd heard the word mountain used in so many forms for the last day or so it seemed as if the heap of stone and earth had its own life and personality… as illogical as the idea was.

His head tilted back and followed the ridge and profile of the nearest peaks, their summit's drifted with his snow, thin clouds hovered and cast long abstract shadows along the uneven earth and where the scrub and trees fell away the stone turned an unnatural shade of indigo, the blue and purple of shadows mixing into a dark shade not meant for land.

Spock watched the mountain distractedly, feeling and suppressing a shiver that threatened to roll down his spine when he realized the chorus of mourners were there, hiding in the crevasses and shadows of lees and outcroppings. The singers were there somewhere, waiting for night to fall to raise their haunting voices again.

If they were real and not some figment of Spock's over taxed mind, they were in the purple range.

Spock's attention was so focused he was only bought back himself by the change of sounds as Time Machine and the trap trotted across the slatted wood and steel bridge over Lost Horse Creek. Spock's eyes settled back on the road ahead, listening to change when hooves and wheels moved from hard packed earth and crushed rock to pavement. The echoing clop and clip of metal shoes striking the asphalt may have left sparks in its wake. Jim easily steered Time Machine into the right hand side of the main strip, comforting the horse with his voice and light touch as they maneuvered passed parked vehicles, a few dogs and even two saddled horses tied to a hitch post outside a store front. The horse only flinched slightly when a motorcycle whirled by in the opposite direction. Citizens of Darby stalled for a moment to watch the small procession, some lifting their hands and calling out to Jim in some neighborly recognition that was returned with a distracted smile or a slight nod of the head.

"Spock, give Cody a nudge please."

Spock flicked his eyes to the back of Jim's head before twisting and carefully settling his hand on the curve of Cody's shoulder. When she didn't move, Spock gave a firm squeeze.

The grey eyed woman shifted, sitting up a little and reaching up to tilt her Stetson back. She blinked lazily at Spock for a moment before glancing around.

Spock didn't have time to retract his grip before Cody broke it by unceremoniously rolling to the side and dropped out of the moving trap. She stumbled only slightly, breaking into a jog to catch up with Time Machine. The Saddlebred snorted a little but dropped his proud head and checked his pace as Cody caught the reins and dropped back to a walk.

Time Machine sighed and allowed Cody to lead him around, across the width of the street and onto a patch of cropped grass under a large tree. There was a long, wooden hitch post and a large stone and metal drum of fresh water set into the ground alongside a stone work building at the end of the boardwalk and line of main street shops. Cody brought the horse around in a wide arch, walking Time Machine one hundred and eighty degrees so the horse stood facing the open street, under the bowers of the tree and could easily dip his head to drink from the drum of water. Time Machine fought her for a moment, freeing himself of her grip and buried his nose in the liquid, snorting a few bubbles before a drawing in long sucks of the cooled liquid and nickered happily. Jim dropped down from the driver's seat to the earth with a grunt, he reach back into the main seat of the trap and extracted a coil of braided rope. He twisted and tossed it to Cody how easily snapped the hook to a ring in Time Machine's bridle and tied a quick release knot around the hitch post, securing the horse.

"Give me a hand with the basket." Jim commanded gently as he grabbed one handle awkwardly. Spock swiftly took up the other and helped ease it to the grassy earth before dropping himself down beside it. The two Starfleet officers bent and took up the basket between them in unison, though Spock knew he could have carried it easily on his own.

"How'd you like your first carriage ride?" Jim asked quietly with a slight quirk of his lips. It seemed his mood had lifted with the journey and handling of the Saddlebred.

"Far better than the transports I procured to arrive in Darby two days passed. It was an unusual experience that while I have not a great desire I would not be opposed to undertaking again in the future." Spock confessed, twisting his attention only slightly as Cody fell into step next to them. The hybrid followed the slight pull and lead of the young captain as they walked passed Time Machine, around to the front of the building and up the short flight of starts to the wooden boardwalk that reminded Spock of Cody's wraparound porch.

"Spock. You're practically bubbling." Jim offered the half-Vulcan a small, genuine smile.

"Indeed." Spock responded, distracted by the store front. The shop had a large single plane of glass window that was occupied by large painted words reading a simple caption of _Bear Track Outfitter_. Standing next to the large, thrown open double doors of the shop was a grizzly bear carved of a single massive tree trunk. It stood tall on hind legs but instead of a viscous roar on its face the totem looked curious and inquisitive. Draped lazily at the bear's feet was a large Golden Retriever, the dog's face was flecked with white and the animal heaved just to get to his feet and stiffly walked towards them. Arthritis and age clearly congealed in the dog's joints.

Jim stopped instantly and bent slightly to lightly stroke the dog's head a few times, scratching his ears and fiddling with the red nylon collar around the animal's neck. The thick, brush of a tail swished quietly back and forth.

"Hey, Cash. Little stiff today?"

The old Retriever only eased tiredly back down to his haunches and woofed quietly. Cody stepped around Spock and Jim to take her turn petting and scratching the old dog, receiving a swish of the tail for her efforts before it was clear Cash had exhausted himself and the dog eased back down onto his belly into the pale sunlight.

Cody strode a head of them into the large outfitters, making a be-line for the tall, grizzled man behind a wooden counter. The man was slim, aging with dark brown eyes that looked like they were pools of fresh mud. His face was stubbled and a short mustache adorned his lip. Wiry steel wool hair stuck out from under a faded hunter orange baseball cap. The man wore a pair of faded jeans, scuffed hiking boots and a thick, scratchy looking sweater of dark green wool. He sat perched on a stool next to an out dated communications consol, a cash box and an ancient wireless radio that was tuned into a crackling and hissing news report.

The man looked up and fixed his mud eyes on Cody.

Spock looked around the large store room, the floor was scarred and scuffed hard wood planks, in placed burned and stained beyond repair. The walls were decorated with large framed photographs of faded color and dull black and whites, most looked like snap shots of hunting trips or camping outings. There were several mounted heads of large browsing animals native to the area that looked dusty and old save for a bull moose mount that bore a massive pair of sunglasses, a feather boa, a string of blinking holiday lights tangled in his antlers, a wooden pipe fixed between the lips and a large piece of laminated paper on a tether that hung from the mount's neck declaring the moose _Mort, President of the Shoot the Bull Club and a real groovy guy_.

There were two more carved, wood bears, one at the end of a locked glass case that was full of ammunition, hunting knives and firearms. The other stood amid a section of clothing racks and shelves packed with jeans, thermal gear, thick socks, shirts, parkas, gloves, scarves and boots. A few shelves made of wood and steel were packed with other needs for undertaking the feral land of the mountain. Large squares of fabric that folded out into tents or sleeping bags, kits of metal cooking utensils and platwear, lanterns, medical caches, predator proof containers and an assortment of other equipment Spock had never seen nor heard of before. There were a few souvenir type things in the form of small carved bears and other animals, caps and folded tee shirts printed with either the logo for the outfitter, a catchphrase or the town's name and location, stuffed animals and a small collection of candies and chocolates.

"Hey Charlie." Jim called, tugging Spock gently towards the man behind the counter.

The grizzle creature gave a small grin and made it known he was missing a canine tooth of his upper set. "Miss Cody. Jimmy. Haven't seen you in a coon's age." His hands lifted and he awkwardly made a few signs to Cody and Jim, but they halted halfway through and his hands settled back on the counter top, leaving Charlie looking a little disappointed.

Cody reached over and deftly lifted Charlie's hands and carefully shaped them into supposedly the right signs with her own fingers. Charlie attempted it on his own and got an approving smile from Cody. The man grinned and offered the sign for thanks.

"You're getting better Charlie." Jim's tone sounded soothing and gentle as the young captain and Spock lifted the basket of goods and set it on the counter top.

"Hard for an old dog like me but I'll get it some time." Charlie eyed the basket. "You two lookin' for somethin' particular?"

"Yeah." Now that his hands were free Jim was swiftly signing everything that was said. Hesitating to let Charlie attempt his own signs for his own words before relaying any breaks in the message to Cody.

"Charlie this is Spock. We need to fit him out."

"Well, welcome to Darby and Lost Horse Creek, Mister Spock."

The hybrid deftly dipped his head and tried not to pay to close attention to the way Charlie's eyes lingered on the swept points of his ears and eyebrows.

"I thank you for your hospitality and assistance."

"Sure thin'. Do you know what you need?"

"I am unfamiliar with the term and practice of 'outfitting'." Spock relayed to Charlie, his eyes flicking slightly to Jim as the young captain carved and twisted designs and words out with his fingers and wrists.

"Do you come from a warm or cold climate?"

"I am Vulcan. I have a very low tolerance for prolonged or extreme cold."

Charlie gave a slight, soft snort. "Not exactly the best idea comin' to Montana then? Musta been a girl right?"

"Pardon?"

"A girl. That's why you're up here? Chasin' some girl or somethin'?"

"No. I was not in pursuit of a female of any kind." Spock responded with a slight cock of his head. Jim interceded before Charlie could pose his next theory.

"Charlie, I'll settle him out then we'll talk business." Jim crowed Spock slightly, effectively nudging the hybrid towards the assortment of displayed clothing without actually touching the First Officer.

"Yeah. You must be fishin'. You brought the hard cheeses. I've got a-"

"-Weakness for 'em. I know." Jim offered Charlie a smile and drive Spock towards the back of the store, leaving Cody to stand with Charlie. The storekeeper grinned at the petite woman, turned down the radio and flipped on the communications consol on and pulled up a screen for the local news reports. Cody reached into the basket and pulled out a small block of hard, pale cheese wrapped in fine cloth. She pulled a knife from a sheath at her hip and carved a few chunks off the block, passing them to a grateful and accepting Charlie while they watched and read the captions of the news.

Spock tore his eyes away to fix on Jim as the young captain riffled through the folded squares of dense fabric thermal shirts.

"You're one size up from me right?"

"Only in height, Jim." Spock assured.

Jim grunted and set the stack he held down to pull another towards him and checking the sizes extracted three of different colors and handed them over to Spock.

"I believe I am perfectly capable of dressing myself."

Jim quirked an eyebrow as he pulled down a stack of folded thermal pants, checking the sizes and pulling out five to add them to the small pile.

"I'm sure you probably figured out how by now but this is a little different Spock. If you're staying all liberty you came just in time for long term frozen mountains and forests. Even on the _Enterprise_ all you had to do was pull on an exploratory unit and it took care of the rest. Here you've got to dress warm enough to keep yourself from going through exposure _and_ you have to be able to move comfortably."

"In theory-"

"I have experience. Isn't taking the advice and suggestions from an experienced stand point more practical than using written and unpracticed theory?"

Spock narrowed his eyes slightly. "That was a surprisingly lucid display of logic."

"I have those sometimes. Trust me Spock. I promise I won't make you look like a tourist." Jim shrugged a slight shoulder and turned towards the folded jeans, passing a number before pulling down a collection marked by a leather patch bearing the name _Wrangler_ and started sorting through them.

"I expect you will take into consideration the limits of reasonable credits for expenditure." Spock pressed.

"We're not using credits."

Spock narrowed his eyes. "Theft-"

"Christ Spock. C'mon. Remember I told you that big basket of cheese and cream was for 'barter'. Most of Darby works that way. There's really not a lot of money floating around this town Spock. You know the Terran economy is slipping and this place wasn't really getting by before so everyone trades. Favors, work, chow, whatever. I don't know if the barter system seems primitive or utopian to you but it works. Only thing that actually takes credits in Darby is utilities and gas and that's only because the state controls that."

Spock hesitated. "A true barter system is in place?"

"Yeah." Jim extracted four pairs of Wranglers and settled them into Spock's arms. "It just makes it easier on everybody instead of struggling to get the credits to pay for everything."

Spock nodded his approval and followed in Jim's wake as the young captain turned towards long and short sleeved shirts.

"Any real preference in color?" Jim asked.

"The purpose of clothing is functionality."

"…Alright. No then. No red though. You'll look like a Christmas tree." Jim muttered.

Within a few minutes Spock's arms were filled with the thermals, jeans as well as a large package of thick socks, for of each long and short sleeved shirt in the simple colors black, white, green and brown. There was a thickly knit, green sweater that would fit fairer than Casper's hand-me-downs, and a black hooded sweatshirt that was a size to large. A pair of thick knitted gloves and a scarf of alternating brown and green bars and a set of hiking boots. Spock turned over the heap of clothing and stripped out of the borrowed corduroy jacket and Casper's sweater to find a outer coat that fit his frame. He settled with a heavy garment that resembled the suede and fleece coats Jim and Cody wore save the rough outer fabric was made of synthesized leather and the wool of the collar was also machine made.

If Jim had any disapproval for Spock's avoidance of animal resourced products he made no voice of it. The pile of clothing was carried to where Charlie and Cody were watching from the corner of their eyes and only seemed to break their pretended lack of attention when Jim and Spock returned to their small circle.

"Jimmy, you sure know how to fit someone." Charlie whistled and flipped through the selected clothing. Jim only nodded as he took a slim offered chunk of the pale cheese and chewed it quietly. Charlie commenced to muttering to himself, Spock's sharp ears picking up the quiet tones and familiar twists of numbers as Charlie deftly added and subtracted his sums far quicker and easier than most humans Spock had encountered.

As he muttered to himself Charlie would occasionally divide the clothing into smaller groups then reach into the large basket and with a clear pickiness select a block or wheel of cheese and occasionally a glass container of thick cream. Jim distractedly took the knife and pale block from Cody's hands and cut himself another slim slice while the petite woman was watching Charlie with rapt attention. Spock had the distinct feeling that she was calculating as quickly as the store keeper was.

Spock began to feel some slight agitation at the thought being supplied out of the rancher's pocket.

Charlie slowed his calculations and stilled, his hand settling on the coat, stack of shirts and boots.

"It doesn't break." Charlie said decisively.

Spock tensed, unsure what the term meant, while Jim stayed relaxed and looked at Charlie from the corner of his eye briefly. Spock cleared his throat, if he was going to be the one to make use of the clothing, it was his debt, not another's.

"Perhaps. I can make a contribution-"

"Twenty pounds out of the first doe this year." Jim said absently. Charlie's eyebrow rose and looked towards Cody who only dipped her head in a slight nod.

"Twenty pounds is a lot of meat." Charlie said quietly and tried to sign the words with rough success. Cody only shrugged and blinked slowly. They seemed at a stand off until Cody casually extended her free hand, palm up and held it poised and waiting.

Charlie eyed it for a moment before sighing and slapping his palm down on top of hers.

"Done."

Cody dipped her head and hefted up the depleted basket of cheese and cream while Charlie roughly folded and stuffed the clothes into two canvas bags and handed them off to Jim and Spock.

"Thanks Charlie. By next weekend." Jim assured as the trio stepped out of the outfitters, passed Cash and started down the steps.

"My I inquire as to what you have just traded?"

"Twenty pounds of venison." Jim saw the lack of comprehension. "Deer meat. Hunting season starts up soon."

Spock hardened and narrowed his eyes slightly. "You partake in the hunting of animals?"

Jim made a slightly disgusted face, he even gave a slight shudder. "Hell no, I don't have the gut for it. Cody's the hunter here." He jerked his head in the direction of the deaf woman.

Spock fixed his eyes at a spot between Cody's shoulders, the petite rancher unaware of the scrutiny as she stepped around Time Machine to deposit the basket back onto the leather seat.

"She only takes what she needs Spock." Jim defended quietly. "And she's as respectful as they come when she hunts."

Spock continued his silence but his gaze dragged away from Cody as they hefted the packaged clothing into the seat.

"I must confess that I am not entirely comfortable with being provided for out of Ms. Ch-"

"Cody."

"… at her expense."

"Enjoy it while it lasts Spock. Sooner than you think you'll be pulling your weight."

The hybrid cocked an eyebrow.

"Trust me Spock. You'll be sweating for your place at Native Sky." Jim climbed into the driver's seat, while Spock took his place on the leather cushion and Cody stood at Time Machine's head, untying the Saddlebred and walking him back onto the main street. The break back into movement unseated Spock's center of balance again but he collected it quicker than he had on the first trip in the trap.

"Vulcans do not sweat." Spock informed the young captain who only shook his head and took his light grip on the reins up as Time Machine fell back into his regal and rounded profile and high kneed trot. Again Cody jogged alongside for a few long strides before lightly vaulting into the carriage with Spock and dropping herself back into her corner of the seat. She settled back and tipped her hat down over her eyes and seemed to return to her doze. Spock fixed it attention outwardly, watching as Jim carefully maneuvered Time Machine from the main street down a few connecting roads and carefully out of the density of the town towards open territory on the far side of Darby. Spock's eyes lingered on the houses, some starting to fall in disrepair with peeling paint, skewed porches and the signs of rotting wood. Others were pristine behind white washed or wire fences with dogs sunning behind gates and carefully tended gardens starting to go dormant in the cold. He watched the last efforts of conserving energy of the sun, lines of launder clothes swaying slightly in the breezes.

Spock felt oddly displaced, as if he been transported back in the time stream and not just headed north across the continent.

Time Machine's animated bouncing gate carried them lightly through the sparse neighborhoods as further on as the residences dwindled in size to large plots of property land. A few miles rolled passed before Jim deftly turned Time Machine down a small, crushed rock drive through a wrought metal gate and encouraged the horse on for several hundred yards until slowing down to a walk. The crushed rock widened, giving way to a small residence of slatted wood shingles, a wide front porch and a small barn of the same wood shingles offset behind the house. Passed the sloped green law was a lawn cross meshed fence protecting rows and rows of different plants. Some supported by wire struts and others by wooden stakes. Under a large tree were several personal vehicles across from a large wooden stand under a small, cloth tent top, where a cluster of people were going through boxes and baskets of greens.

Spock gently repeated his rousing of the rancher next to him, gripping her shoulder and trying to retract his hand before Cody broke his grip. The petite woman easily dropped out of the trap and caught Time Machine again, coaxing the horse around to stand free in a space of grass next to a rusted pickup truck and two metal bicycles. She deftly clipped the lead rope back into place and tied Time Machine securely to a low slat of the perimeter fence. Jim hopped down from his place and turned back to take the basket from Spock as the hybrid dropped to the earth to follow in their wake. As the trio crossed the gravel drive the soft twangs of gospel music drifted around the yard over the chatter of slight women in slender jeans or using their last chances of warm to sport flower patterned sundresses.

A barrel of a man was draped in a threadbare and worn lawn chair, with a pipe clenched in his teeth. His jaw was lined with a short, clean cut beard, a crop of steel colored hair was hidden under a ball cap supporting the local high school football team. He wore a pair of bib overalls streaked with earth, and a white tee shirt, draped lightly off his shoulders was a green flannel shirt and his feet heavy in a pair of scarred working boots.

The man looked up and his face split into a toothy grin.

"Miss Cody! James!" He bellowed, heaving his bulk up out of the chair and rushed forward, leaving the seat rocking slightly in his wake.

"Hey Mister Cartwright!' Jim chirped happily, a grin on his face that stayed even after Cartwright crushed the air out of his chest in a hug. Cody only looked bemused, with a slight grin on her face and allowed the massive man to take her hand and light peck her knuckles.

"How're you doing, sir?' Jim asked.

"Fine. Just fine, son." Cartwright's face turned serious. "Alright, how 'bout this… 'For if any be a hearer of the word, and not a doer, he is like unto a man beholding his natural face in a glass: for he beholdeth himself, and goeth his way, and straightway forgetteth what manner of man he was.'"

Jim chewed his lower lip through the short rendition before speaking slowly. "Chapter one, verse twenty three and twenty four ?"

"Good man!' Cartwright barked jovially. "And very unlike your overly active and imaginative character, I might say."

"Yes sir."

"Too right." Cartwright chuckled, slapping Jim hard on the shoulder.

"Jim, this quotation is beyond my recollection." Spock put in, his eyes flicking from Cartwright to Cody to the still grinning Jim.

"It's from the Bible, Spock. There's a Book in it titled 'James' that Mister Cartwright likes to remind me of every chance he gets." The young captain shrugged.

"Far too short. Far too short a book. It needs be much longer and you namesake far more predominant in such a lovely rendition is to have any kind of effect on you naturally wayward and adverse temperament. Now in the better nature of ourselves common courtesy is expected, even of a brash young creature such as yourself, James. Enlighten me on your most unusual and intriguing companion."

All of this was said in a fluid few seconds and rumbling drawl, so fast Spock would endeavor to think that Jim would not have been able to sign fast enough to keep up the dialog to Cody at all. The half-Vulcan blinked a few times and cast a look at Jim, hoping for an explanation for this long winded and rapid pattern of speech.

Jim only smiled but seemed to read the plead for explanation easily. "Mister Cartwright has the gift of gab, Spock."

"Gift of gab, that I do or so I have been told by the more familiar faces of the gossiping chain. I of course would never take part in such off color relations, bad form, gossiping is. Good entertainment and a fair way to get the news but bad form of its self." But the man puffed slightly anyway,

"Mister Cartwright this is my First Officer Spock. Spock, this is Mister Henry Cartwright." Jim introduced with a slightly crooked grin. "Spock is the son of the Vulcan Ambassador Sarek."

Spock dipped his head respectfully.

"A pleasure to be absolute James! Spock! A bit of flavor to this old pot of Darby soup I dare admit! A fine young man to bring up your good form while you're out and about gallivanting in the cold reaches of the cosmos, While it seems to take to the nature of youth I myself am far more disinclined and prefer to keep my feet firmly upon solid ground, where He has set things to grow. But not much can be said for age, such prudence will come in time to you two, even I myself had my glorious romps and wild adventures before the hotspurs of my soul were calmed by the good Book and good cooking." Cartwright petted his ample stomach and grinned like some over large cat.

"You, Mister Cartwright? Gallivanting?" Jim teased gently.

"I must confess, son, that in my younger days I was a much slighter creature. And as truth is His way, I future confess that I was a bit of a ruffian."

"No." Jim looked on the verge of humor and mock shock. Cartwright plowed on as if he was unaware that Jim was teasing him.

"Oh yes. I was a man on a different kind of mission then, my boy. Different entirely. Fought my way bare knuckled and all straight through Georgia to Tennessee and by the end of it had not a natural tooth in my head. This Cheshire smile gleaming before you is the work of a particularly talented and insightful surgeon dentist in South Carolina."

"It's fine work, Mister Cartwright." Jim nodded solemnly, and gave Spock the slightest nudge with his elbow when Cartwright turned in the hybrid's direction.

"Indeed." Spock agreed belatedly and barely avoided jumping when Cartwright slapped his meaty hands together with another bark of a laugh.

"He's a prize James! A real prize! Never part with him! Hear?"

"Never, sir." Jim cast a look towards Spock, catching amber eyes with cerulean and impressing to Spock that this was not in good humor but solid truth. Spock's core gave a slight roll that decidedly wasn't unpleasant and Spock could almost feel the threads of their fledgling bond of friendship strengthen and braid tightly together.

"Absolutely. I expect you would be more likely to part company with Miss Cody here. Everyone in town knows the bond of you friendship is made of pure gold." Cartwright indicated the petite woman who only offered small smile and Spock had the distinct feeling that she may not have been paying close attention to what the boisterous human was saying.

"More wonder when the two of you will finally tie hands in the most sacred of bonds of matrimony under His roof. Some figure by the end of the year and that's the reason for you presence, of course you didn't hear such speculation from myself."

"Of course not, Mister Cartwright. As for those rumors I'd be marrying my sister. Why would I ruin a perfectly good relationship with marriage? With my personality I need all the friends I can get. I can't go around upsetting them with matrimony."

Cartwright bellowed in laughter. "Sister! Too right! As for the prospect of marriage do be so quick, son. Book says suffering makes a man."

"You would know firsthand, Mister Cartwright."

"You're a gem, my boy!" Cartwright bellowed in laughter, wiping his eyes roughly and looked decidedly to Spock. "Don't listen to that boy, Spock. My Dina puts the starts to shame. Made out of pearls and flowers she is. Not a lick of spite in her and I never intender her to get one. Finest lady in the Federation and this old soul is right humbled at the most gratuitous measure of His hand that brought us together these last thirty years and pray long for another thirty."

Spock hesitated a moment, making sure of what he'd heard before replying. "It seems that you and Lady Dina are well matched."

"A blessed match, my boy! A blessed one!" Cartwright slapped Spock hard on the shoulder, making the half-Vulcan stumbled slightly before regaining his balance. Jim made a face behind Cartwright's back and mouthed an apology to Spock over the man's shoulder.

"Now! What can I help three fine youths as yourselves with at the moment?" Cartwright bent and sniffed at the remaining cheeses and cream in the basket. "Fine assortment. Bribery is a near sin."

"We'll have to risk it, Mister Cartwright. Spock is a vegan." Jim tried to look sheepish.

"Completely?" Cartwright looked at Spock with raised eyebrows.

"Indeed. The Vulcan culture does not make use of animal products in any state or form."

"A man after my own heart. Can't help the occasional cheese or crock of cream mind but the red meat dose a number on my old gut." Cartwright patted his stomach again and sighed and eyed the basket again. Jim held it out temptingly and waited. Spock noticed Cody took on that same distant, calculating look that she'd had at the outfitter, watching and sizing Cartwright up.

"Mind doing a bit of that hand talking, James?"

"Not for a second." Jim handed the basket off to Spock and caught Cody's attention.

"Let the lady know that she's a right temptress, I'd expect no less. She does seem to get what she wants, even when you're not around to make light conversation between us, James."

Jim's hands twisted and curled, drawing the signs in the air for Cody to follow and understand. After he'd finished Cody offered a sly grin and made the single sign for thanks.

"She says thank you."

"Of course she would. What exactly did she have in mind for the remainder of that cheese and cream?'

Jim signed the request and waited for the reply.

"She says it's meant for you."

"I suspected as such. I have to declare there is a bit of scramble as of late with the cold weather coming in, the crop won't last much passed the end of this week. The snap last night did away with a fair bit that was still in the ground. Too soon the lot of you'll be spending credits at a grocery that claims all organic and natural when it's all clearly replicated." There was a tint of disdain in Cartwright's voice.

Cody signed a quick reply.

"She's not asking for a monopoly, she wants a solid basket full, after the ladies take theirs, just to tide over. She already has a fair stock and wants to top off."

"Too right she has a fair stock. Here once a week wither she needs it or not and every time she gets a wild hair. She's right lucky I'm not lactose intolerant like some individuals."

Cartwright looked at Jim pointedly and the young captain shifted a little at the scrutiny. "It's not _that_ bad of an allergy."

"It's downright mild from what I hear 'bout some of the more adverse things that have happened to you in Doc's lobby. It's a wonder how you've survived so long and continue in your rough and rowdy ways as delicate a flower as you are."

It was clear the Cartwright was teasing Jim for all her was worth and Spock bristled slightly at the way Jim looked uncomfortable and unsettled at the train of conversation.

"The captain's medical standing to allergens, while is unusually high and intolerant, does not affect his character and prowess as an officer or an individual." Spock said stiffly, straightening himself up in his defense for Jim.

Jim blinked, looking a little shocked while Cartwright grinned toothily.

"Too right, young man. Too right. Right fine First Officer you have there, James. Never let him go. Be a fool of a new kind to."

"Never, sir." Jim agreed again and cast Spock a look of appreciation. "Anyway. Cody wants the full basket for trade."

For a moment Cartwright hemmed and hawed, putting on a clear show of consideration. Like before Cody waited a seemingly precise amount of time before extending her hand, palm up and waiting.

"A temptress. Jezebel. Done." Cartwright slapped his meaty palm down on Cody's. The petite woman dipped her head again with a slightly sly grin and stepped away with Jim in her wake. Spock made to follow and was slowed up by Cartwright walking next to him.

"Quite defensive of your captain there, young man."

Spock stiffened slightly, fixing is eyes on Jim and Cody as they deftly unloaded the cheeses and creams into an empty wooden box next to Cartwright's lawn chair before moving to the table top laden with boxes and baskets packed full of fresh vegetables and fruits. Spock fell into a formality that only annunciated his defensiveness. "Captain Kirk is an officer that does not tolerate slander towards his crew. I would see that he does not receive such attentions in turn."

"I suppose an old dog such as myself has a hard time see how thick the skin of another is at times. Went a bit too far, I expect. I'd say a bit."

"Indeed." Spock accompanied Cartwright back to where the older man eased his bulk back down onto his lawn chair and relit his pipe, puffing on the tobacco quietly. The acidic scent and burn of the drug made Spock's nose crinkle slightly.

"Tis a better thing the boy has some fair friends such as yourself and Miss Cody there. Solid gold friends, wouldn't you say James?"

"I'd say solid dilithium actually." Jim called over as he hefted up a large yellow squash, weight it in his hands before setting it into the basket, while next to him Cody was sniffing delicately at a small cardboard container full of strawberries.

Cartwright guffawed cheerfully. "Keep a fairly good look out on James, do you Spock?'

"It would perceive it sufficient."

"Needs be more sufficient."

"Don't listen to him Spock!" Jim called suddenly from next to a basket full of long bright orange carrots.

Cartwright snorted and went on. "He needs a certain _kind_ of looking after. Good head on his shoulders but some very bad habits. Very bad. Downright demonic."

Jim sighed loudly. "Mister Cartwright. For the last time. I'm not the Devil."

"Exactly what the Beast would say under such observant eyes." Cartwright huffed."You do not deny the specter I saw made of you at witching hours of the night."

"No. But-"

" 'And he rode upon a pale horse and behind him, all Hell followed'…" Cartwright tapped his spent pipe in the center of his palm, tutting loudly with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Jim sighed again loudly. "You take one midnight ride on a white horse and everyone thinks you're the Grim Reaper."

Cartwright let out another burst of laughter and waved Spock on to join Cody and the blonde before turning his attention to the slim woman in the floral sundress. Spock dipped his head toward Jim.

"He seems a very crude individual."

"It's just character Spock." Jim shrugged it off and held up a small container of plump mushrooms. Spock hesitated before dipping to sniff the fungus before nodding his approval and they were set into the basket. Within a quarter of an hour the basket was filled to brim with squash, tomatoes, cucumbers, carrots, peas, leafy greens, egg plants, peaches, apples and all manners of other Terran roughage and weighed twice as much as it had when it was filled with cream and cheese. Spock took one and end and oddly Cody took the other, heaving the weight between them, Jim exchanged a last few quips with Cartwright before following in their wake and helped haul the produce into the seat next to Spock before taking his place again in the driver's seat.

When Time Machine was set off at a steady trot and Cody was dozing back in her corner of the seat Spock relaxed marginally and focused his attention this time on the sounds of hooves hitting the earth and the humming of spinning wheels.

A deception of time made the trip back shorter than the tip out and Spock was surprised to feel the slight pulse of relief when Time Machine made up the long drive and across the yard of Native Sky. But it was late afternoon by then and Spock was beginning to feel the pangs of hunger.

Cody held the now sweating Saddlebred while Jim climbed down to take her place before she came back to the passenger's seat to help Spock unload the clothing and basket of produce.

She paused and used one hand to make a few signs to Jim, halting Spock in their attempt to carry the basket up the steps and across the porch to the kitchen. Each with a canvas bag of clothes slung over their shoulders.

"Spock!" Jim called. "Cody wants to know if you'll give her a hand with the chow until I'm done rubbing Time Machine down."

Spock turned and caught Cody's eye, nodding once and receiving a grin in return as they set back to work, maneuvering through the door amid the scrambling and clicking of nails on the terra cotta tiles as they were greeted by Situpsa and Canteska. Spock glanced around and noticed Nemo A534 hanging back in the doorway, balancing on three paws. The dog looked at him expectantly and while Cody silently scratched and romped a little with the other two Spock crossed and passed his hand lightly over the one eyed dog's head, petting his ears.

The noise died down when Cody pushed open the screen door and let the dogs out into the yard. Nemo A534 limping slowly at the end of the trio and allowed the silent and brooding Wagi in. The dark German Shepherd eyed Spock and seemed to resist growling before stalking over and curling up tightly under the wooden table.

Spock stood absently and slightly unsure while Cody easily tucked away the vegetables and fruits into different places around the kitchen and extracted ones that had been there for a while and setting them out on the counter next to the stove top. She paused, glanced at Spock for a second before moving to the shelf unit next to the refrigerator and extracted a worn leather bound book and flipped through the pages before settling on one and handing it over.

Spock glanced at the page, finding measurements and detailed instructions written by hand on how to make a dish of noodles and spinach that was baked before serving. Spock looked at her questioningly before she motioned him over to a clear part of the counter and collected a bowl and mixing spoon, measuring cup and knife and set them in front of him before motioning towards the instructions on how to make the dough for the noodles.

Spock hesitated before awkwardly titling the book and motioning towards the indication of eggs in the recipe. Cody only grinned and ducked over to the refrigerator where she pulled out a large carton of a chemical mixture that stood as synthetic eggs.

At Spock's look of confusion, Cody twisted and one handed popped open the marker and scribbled a quick note on the white board magnetized to the surface of the refrigerator door.

_Henry's right, Jim's allergic to everything._

Spock lifted an eyebrow and felt the slightest twitch of a corner of his mouth before accepting the carton and turning it to read how to measure out the replacement in comparison to organic eggs while Cody retrieved glass containers of wheat flour and canola oil.

About an hour later Cody had rolled out Spock's dough and was cutting wide noodles that didn't resemble the kind of pasta Spock was used to coming from the _Enterprise_'s replicators. Jim trotted in, he looked tired and quickly scrubbed his hands in the sink, slashing his face and slicking back his hair with water.

The break in silence when he spoke was slightly startling. "What's she got you making?"

"A baked pasta and spinach dish." Spock responded.

Jim's brow furrowed and pushed himself up on his toes to look over Spock's shoulder at the recipe.

"Lasagna. Perfect." Jim rumbled happily and ducked to open the doors of several cabinets and pulled out a deep rectangular glass baking dish and he easily coated it with canola oil.

"On first inspection it seems that Cody was partially prepared for my nutritional needs before my arrival. But she has informed me, in a manner of example, you and I share a similar diet."

Jim cocked his head in confusion before following Spock's slight motion to look at the note still scribbled on the white board. The young captain grinned.

"Yeah. Well at least it won't be a huge strain on her to make sure we gain weight." Jim shrugged and lightly took several of the wide noodles and settling them at the bottom of the pan before layering finely diced tomatoes, mushrooms and leaves of spinach. He hesitated and signed a question to Cody while his hand hovered over a container marked 'ricotta'. Cody responded absently and Jim took up the wet and crumbled substance, spreading it heavily over the layered vegetables and noodles.

"Jim, may I inquire."

"It's a soft cheese. But this isn't made with milk at all. Better for me and you." Jim shrugged.

"Are you truly lactose intolerant?"

"Not really bad, but it make me nauseous and too much of it can made me relatively sick. A little bit of cheese like I had back at Charlie's isn't really bad but the purer the milk is the worse off I am."

Spock hesitated a moment.

"You are in possession of a very temperamental series of body systems."

"I'm complicated that way." Jim sighed and finished assembling the lasagna before setting it into the oven while Cody swept the counter top clean and started the dishes. Spock followed Jim as the young man settled himself down at the kitchen table. Jim slumped over, resting his head on his folded arms and his eyes shut.

"Ms. Chi-"

"Cody." His voice was muffled by his bicep.

"Cody has endeavored to teach me a little of the sign language you employ to communicate."

Jim's eyes blinked open and he sat up a little. "Show me."

Spock relayed to him the series of signs that Cody had taught him that morning.

"'Jim's in the barn.' You're going to need that for sure." Jim smiled encouragingly.

"I have also been observing and have retained a few signs during the events of the day but I find it hard to follow all the signs you've made at the speed you use."

"Show me what you remember." Jim motioned for him to continue.

It went on like that, Spock carefully recounting what he remembered, Jim correcting mistakes and adding to Spock's swiftly growing sign vocabulary. Spock could sense Jim's ease and restrained joy at teaching another the means of voiceless communication. Spock kept one eye on the signs moving between them and another watched as the whispering hum of the ancient languages bubbled up under Jim's skin and rippled over his movements. The lining of silver blossomed at the corner of his eyes and it grew deeper when Cody presented three large helpings of spinach lasagna and joined into their endeavor, adding her expertise in the signed language. And slowly Spock began to understand her.

Darkness swept down from the mountain long before the trio retired their plates to the sink.

Spock expected Cody and Jim to make for their own rooms or the shower for the night but watched as they donned their fleece and suede coats and Stetson hats again.

"We're going to go work out for a couple of hours Spock." Jim said, hesitating at the door as Cody trotted through and melted into the darkness.

"Work out?"

"In the arena. If you need us. It's going to be quiet for a while so you could try for meditating again." Jim suggested and started to duck out the door.

"Jim, may I make a request." Spock said quickly. Jim met him with silence but rapt attention.

"Do you… intend to teach me how to ride a horse?"

Jim paused, looking considerate. The hum of ancient language flared over his skin and Spock felt the threads tied in his core flare slightly.

"You want to learn?"

Spock straightened up slightly. "I believe it would be beneficial."

"Not what I asked. Do you _want_ to learn?"

Spock paused for a long, heavy moment. Jim looked at him expectantly.

"Yes."

"Alright. 'Cause I'm not teaching anybody that doesn't want to learn. We'll start you tomorrow morning, when we get back from the mountain." Jim agreed.

Spock dipped his head and stood back as Jim slipped through the screen and into the dark.

* * *

**Sucks not to have a home computer right now, this would have been done so long ago… Anyway some serious character development this time around. **

**Cartwright is based on my image when I hear the song 'Henry Cartwright's Prayer and Produce Stand' by Trent Tomlinson. And maybe a little Foghorn Leghorn thrown in there.**

**So anyway yeah and bout the American Saddlebred: http://kingdomofhorses. com/myPictures/ williamshatner3 .jpg ****(Shatner and Sultan's Great Day)**

**Did anyone doubt!!?!? Yeah, it's true. W. Shatner owns the 360 acre Belle Reve Saddlebred Ranch in Kentucky where he breeds, trains, shows and actively handles gaited American Saddlebreds and American Quarter Horses. He's actually produced some of the biggest, top winingest, championship studs of the Saddlebred breed including Sultan's Great Day, Call Me Ringo and Time Machine (a gelding).**

**And to my knowledge the real Time Machine was NEVER mistreated. He's the first of a number of 'broken' horses that are going to pop up in this fic. I have firsthand experience with animals like this. I am currently re-gentling a Paint gelding named Voodoo (APHA Willie Damerius) that was neglected and most likely abused in the past. I've owned Voodoo for a year and he's doing great in his training but he still has a lot of fear we're trying to work through.**

**P.S. EVERYONE go see INGLORIOUS BASTERDS! It was AWESOME!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Good God y'all I'm sorry this took so long. I don't have a computer at home to work with and the time I normally use to work on this is being eaten up by horses and working and participating at the local Renaissance Festival (yes… I am__****that kind**** of geek) and the return of my first, one and only true love SUPERNATURAL to the airwaves. Season Five has official started with more war, more magic, more Apocalypse, more Hunters and MORE CASTIEL than I could ever want! My head is buzzing with theories and speculations, plot bunnies and the like that are eating up notebooks and spare moments at the computers. So sorry for the delay but it has returned and I promise it will be finished in time. **

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**Pre-Spirk/Spirk:** **"It is… uncomfortable." He replied simply, not all together sure how to relay to the blonde about the displacement he felt from Hornet…**

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**Lost Horse Creek, Montana**

"**When you are lonely, let me be your companion. When you are tired, let me carry the load. When you need to learn, let me teach you… after all, I am your horse."**

**-Unknown**

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**Chapter Five: First Rite**

"**We shall not cease from exploration. And the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.****"**

**-T.S Eliot**

**…**

_**Native Sky Ranch**_

_**124 Flathead Road,**_

_**Lost Horse Creek, Bitterroot Mountain Range, Rocky Mountains, Ravalli County, Montana**_

_**Stardate: 2260**_

_**September 20**_

_**0326 Hours**_

**…**

The voices returned that night.

A singular warbling cry that rose and fell, sending splintering chills through Spock's chest where the threads tied in his core shivered violently and hunkered down. For a moment Spock thought that the lone voice may have been it, the echoing silence that followed a testimony of its solidarity.

In a matter of minutes the chorus rose, the mourning bell voices rolling down from the peaks into the shadow of the mountain.

Spock pressed himself tightly against the headboard of his borrowed bed and curled his legs into his chest. The hybrid shut his eyes and tried to detach his mind from his body, seek out the instability in his mentalscape that was causing this hallucination.

One particularly loud cry rose, warbling and thundering so Spock was almost certain he felt the walls around him shudder.

The half-Vulcan shoved himself out from under the warmth of the comforter and dropped to the floor, the bare soles of his feet connecting with hardwood flooring that felt like a sheet of ice. Spock shivered violently once before he dropped back onto the edge of the mattress and drew his legs up away from the new intrusion of cold.

Spock resigned himself, taking a moment to breathe slowly and evenly, centering the sudden turmoil of his environment and mind.

Another particularly loud, nearly jarring voice rose in the lee of the mountains and Spock swallowed hard, gritting his teeth against the noise he couldn't be sure was real or in his own making.

He huddled slightly on the edge of the mattress and for a moment looked towards the slightly ajar door of his room. It seemed far and desolate from his place on the bed.

Over the sound of rolling wails in the mountain Spock heard the soft clink of metal and ceramic. He strained his ears, fixing his attention on the minuet sounds of something happening down the hall. Swallowing visibly Spock set his feet back onto the cold floor and moved stiffly around to the neatly folded collection of clothes he'd acquired the day before. He slipped into the thermal clothing before pulling on a pair of jeans, they fit to snuggly against his hips, biting a little into his skin. A layer of long sleeves under short sleeves was not enough and Spock adopted the hooded sweatshirt, trapping every last molecule of heat he could against his flesh as he pulled on the thick, woolen socks, breaking the grasp of the ice sheet under his feet.

The half-Vulcan slipped out of the quest room and moved silently down the hall, again the darkness of the chill outdoors and the ranch home broken by the pale glow of the kitchen lights.

He stepped across the terra cotta tiles, catching cerulean and grey eyes as Jim looked up, followed by Cody.

The petite rancher makes a few signs with one hand, the other wrapped around a steaming ceramic mug.

Jim lifts his own free hand and made the same moves, deliberate and a little slower. His voice translating the signs.

"Good morning, Spock."

The formality seems odd for Jim and it takes a moment before Spock realized he's being given a short, impromptu lesson. He lifted his hand and carefully copied the moves in response.

Cody's eyes followed the movements then an amused smile cracked across her lips, a silent laugh at the hybrid's attempt. Spock narrowed his eyes, sure he'd copied the signs exactly and looked to Jim.

"You signed your own name at the end, Spock." Jim explained over the rim of him mug.

"My name?"

"Watch." Jim instructed and lifted one hand before spelling out the signed letters for First Officer's name.

"I see."

"At least you did it right." Jim shrugged one shoulder and yawned.

Spock cocked his head and turned his observation outwards. He realized it seemed uncharacteristically quiet and still in the room. Especially considering it was occupied by four dogs, a rancher that relied on movement to communicate and James Kirk. The two humans looked drowsy, their eyes half lidded and heads dipped until their chins almost touched their chests. They blinked slowly, breathed deeply and occasionally their faces stretched in yawns, showing teeth and tonsils.

They were again dressed in a similar way to the day before and in the manner Spock now found himself clothed. If the trend continued Spock would assess the jeans and layered shirts, boots and flannels as a type of uniform for the ranch.

His eyes trailed to Cody as the small woman lazily scratched at her ear before making a sloppy few signs to Jim and motioned towards a coffee pot simmering on the stove top. When her signs had ended Jim rolled his eyes up towards Spock.

"You look wide awake but she wants to know if you want some coffee."

"I will politely decline. I find it too strong for my digestion system."

Jim blinked at him slowly for a second before turning and shaking his head at Cody, who shrugged and took a few mouthfuls of her own brew.

"Did you get any meditation done?' Jim asked quietly.

Spock fixed him with a look that Spock felt was an emotionless equivalent to exhaustion.

"An attempt early last night proved unsuccessful." Spock reported quietly.

Jim set his mug down without taking his eyes off Spock. "Are you alright?"

"I fear that if the occurrence continues at its present rate my mental stability will begin to suffer."

Spock refrained from telling Jim that he was already suffering, straining, near breaking under the weight of his own mind. It was beginning to devolve into a whirlwind of chaos.

"Is it still because you don't feel safe?" Jim asked, his voice hardened to an edge.

"The instinctual reaction of survival and preservation during the ancestral vulnerability that coincides with meditation has in the past been a struggle for myself due to my mixed heritage. As of late its influence has become a hurdle that I find difficult to pass even for short lengths of time."

Jim blinked at him slowly for a moment.

"Would it help if someone sat with you?"

"…Pardon?"

"If you meditated with me or Cody or both of us in the room. That way you would _know_ that if something happened or you were in danger there is someone there to pull you out or defend you until you could yourself."

Spock looked at the young blonde strangely then cast his eyes towards the petite woman hunched at the end of the scarred wooden table. She noticed him watching her and lifted her eyebrows in question, waiting for Spock to make some attempt at conveying what he wanted.

"The two of you would offer this service to my company?"

Cody's brow stitched together and she cast her eyes towards Jim. The young captain quickly and smoothly relayed a string of signs to the rancher. When he finished she turned to catch Spock's eye and dipped her head once.

The hybrid's attention snapped to Jim. "Course we would Spock. Whatever it takes to make sure your sound."

"Sound?"

"Solid, healthy in body, mind and soul. When a horse is sound he's in the peak of fitness." Jim explained then went quiet, waiting for Spock to make his decision.

"It is not uncommon for parties of Vulcans to gather, when in unfamiliar surroundings, for collective and unifying meditation. I see no logical reason to deny the experiment." Spock straightened himself as much as he could.

Jim didn't smile or move save to dip his head slightly before twisting and lifting his coffee mug back to his lips. "We'll give it the college try tonight when the work's done."

Cody's watched Jim's lips move, reading the words on them before nodding her assent and pushing herself up, stretching and arching her back with a series of small pops and crackles. She winced and rubbed the left side of rib cage as she moved to pull on her suede and fleece coat. Spock's eyebrow raised slightly as the display of pain.

"Is -"

"She's just getting old Spock… we all are." Jim sighed tiredly and watched as Cody slipped her Stetson into place and made a single sign to Jim as she slipped out the door.

"Ms.-"

"Cody."

"According to your rendition of your relationship, Ms… Cody is not more than thirty three Terran years of age and you no more than twenty six. Medically speaking both of you are only slightly over the quarter mark of your life spans. I find it hard to believe that 'we are all getting old', as you put."

Jim's lips quirked slightly. "Thing you'll find about living in the saddle and on the mountains Spock is that it makes old souls of young bodies."

Spock cocked his head slightly and looked on at Jim, pondering the statement as Jim set the two mugs down in the sink and reached for his own coat and drew it on before lifting his hat. Spock started for the mud room to follow.

"Why don't you stay in until the suns up, Spock? It'll be daylight and warmer by the time we get back. You look like you're cold and stepping out there won't help you any." Jim advised gently, hesitating before setting his hat back down and ducking into a cabinet to pull out a small saucepan, similar to the one he'd used the morning before but this time unceremoniously filled it with water, nearly to the brim and set it onto a burner on the stove top. He cranked one of the dials around and lifted his hat back up to set it on his head.

"This advice seems sound." Spock said at length, casting his eyes towards the saucepan.

"When it boils you can use it for tea, just set it back on the stove and turn the heat around to off." Jim instructed. "A cup or two oughta warm you up enough."

"Would it be objective for me to explore the properties of the ranch in your absence?"

Jim dipped his head. "That's fine, but I think you might want to stick to the house and the barn, not to far outside the paddocks, you know? I know you can handle yourself Spock but it's still wild land out there and it's not a good idea to take off on your own."

"Until further experience of the territory-"

"It's not a good idea to be on your own if you've been here a hundred years, Spock. If you want to go hiking or something just wait for me, alright?"

Spock narrowed his eyes. "Jim-"

"Spock, _please_. It's not just the cold or getting lost or exhaustion, okay? You trust me when all we have to stand on are metal gangways and bulkheads. Trust me on solid ground."

Spock straightened slightly.

"Very well, Jim."

The blonde let out a small breath of relief and stepped towards the door, he let out a low, short whistle, Wagi and Situpsa leapt to their feet and trotted out the door on his heels, leaving Spock with the slowly healing Nemo A534 and the aging Canteska. The two dogs cocked their ears forward, their eyes following Spock as he moved around the room. Standing patiently next to the stove top until the water churned and bubble and twisting the control around and off the way he'd been shown. Searching the cupboard he located the same ceramic mug that Spock had used for the past two mornings and a wooden box he'd seen Cody bring down to brew the thick, strong tea she'd offered him on his arrival. Opening it he found sprigs of dried plants tied and bent into small bundles with strips of what looked like grass. Spock lifted a particularly small bundle and sniffed it.

The aroma of lemon and cinnamon and thick black tea rose and brushed his senses. Spock found it more than enough and dropped it into the pool of cooling water in his mug, adding gilded honey from a container to thin the already thickening drink.

Spock carefully lifted the heavy ceramic mug into his hands and sipped the scalding liquid, savoring it far more than the nearly strangling strong teas and coffees that Cody and Jim were prone to offer him.

A long low creak above his head tilted the hybrid's attention back as the old ranch old twisted and settled a little. Once the groaning stopped Spock continued to look at the ceiling of planked wood and log supports above him. He'd yet to venture further than his own borrowed room and the kitchen.

He was aware that somewhere above him were the chosen rooms of Cody and Jim.

On the tiled floor next to him the two dogs exchanged glances and cocked ears. Nemo A534 pinned his ears and woofed softly, Spock attention snapping down to the dogs as Canteska sighed in response and pushed up slowly and heavily to his paws. The elder dog's joints rattled with arthritis and he groaned once on his feet.

The albino shepherd crossed slowly to Spock and lifted a paw, scratching at his jeans before turning and walking slowly out of the kitchen.

Spock followed the dog with his eyes before casting his attention back to Nemo A534. The younger dog woofed again, pushed himself up and hobbled after Canteska. Spock hesitated a moment before falling into step behind them.

The wounded dog and aging one led Spock through the den around to the main stairwell and started to climb, slowly and stiffly. Spock followed dutifully on their heels, allowing them to climb at their own pace, in no rush, though his curiosity continued to blossom and grow deeper.

The stairs creaked and groaned warningly under his weight and the moaning of aged wood continued when he and the two dogs stepped out onto the landing of the second floor. Spock glanced around, the walls were a similar coffee colored and adorned with the framed photographs and bits of displayed tack as the first floor. A line of doors followed along one wall while the other side of the second floor was occupied by a small area occupied by a large window set back and looking out over the mountains and pastures behind the ranch, the deep ledge of the window was packed with thick pillows and what Spock believed were hand stitched quilts in varying colors resembling natural autumn plant life. There was a narrow shelf packed with still more antique, leather bound books. A small desk made of honey colored wood and a comfortable chair supported the weight of the sole communications unit that Jim had mentioned. The computer looked to be several years old and all around it were short stacks of paperwork. Real paperwork, printed on fiber papers. There were hand written scribbles across many of them, some looked like bills for feed or vetting and other looked like records for sales and production. The screen of the personal computer was occupied by a desktop image of a large, dark and violent looking storm cloud reaching over the brilliant green of a field of some Terran crop and a desolate paved road.

File icons are line along the sides of the image, marked with titles like _APHA_ and _AQHA_ and _ApHC_ and other codes Spock could not decipher at the moment.

Spock turned his attention to Nemo A534 as the one eyed Shepherd limped stiffly towards one door that was slightly ajar. Spock followed and pushed it more open, standing in the door way, balancing his mug in one hand and focusing his whole attention on absorbing the room.

He assumed it was Cody's.

It was large and had an odd, angular floor space. The walls were painted a light brown and several large windows drew in the slowly growing natural light from the outdoors. The wood frames of the windows are lined with trinkets, setting against the glass and balanced on the narrow ledges made by the frames. Rusted horse shoes and bottles of colored glass in dark blues and greens. Small jars sealed with wax and filled with grit and grains of sand and dirt, marked with the names of states and places in North America. A large bed on a metal and wood frame was ruffled and unmade; sand colored pillows, cerulean sheets and a tawny comforter were heaped awkwardly onto the mattress and spilling to the floor.

The hardwood floor was scratched, and worn in some places near the legs of the bed or furniture. There were two tall shelves packed again with leather bound books, an antique desk and chair with a small lamp were cluttered with journals bound in suede, loose papers and opened books. Spock ventured into the room a few steps to make out a neat, small handwriting scribbled in margins and along boarders and covering entire pages in the journals. Spock crossed the room gingerly, interested to know what it was that had Cody studying and researching so furiously. On closer examination it was clear that Cody was in the midst of two projects, not one. Half of the research was centered around the American Paint Horse and its history.

The other preoccupation was a miss mash of texts and papers that seemed to have no connection at all except they were fictional and not possible. Creatures that were frequent in Terran horror culture and religion. Demons and monsters. Spock carefully picked up a thick book with a title marked in narrow, straight letters _The Winchester Gospel_. Spock narrowed his eyes at the text and set it back to its place before returning his attention to the room.

One corner off the large bed was a plush chair of faded blue fabric and wood accents facing a large window. The cushions of it were skewed and balanced on one arm was a book Spock recognized from Jim's personal cache.

The hybrid cocked his head and could not help recognizing the tell tale signs of Jim's frequent occupation of the chair. Spock crossed and lightly brushed his free hand over the arm of the chair, confirming the slight, faded linger of Jim's impression on the chair.

This was Jim's place in Cody's domain.

Spock's attention dragged away, flitting over a wicker basket heaped with dirtied clothes and over the open doors of a closet packed with garments on hangers, folded on shelves or heaped on the floor.

The walls of the room were decorated with more black and white photographs of horses and strangers, fence lines and the sides of barns, in slim, barnwood frames. There were narrow shelves that supported more collections of odd trinkets. Colored stones carved into the shapes of animals, the sheds of buck deer, model horses, cactus plants in ceramic pots, the stripped and bleached skulls of a horse, a buffalo and a bear.

On a shelf just over Jim's chair was a singular photograph in a wooden frame, tilted back to rest against the wall. The picture was the smiling face of a dark eyed and haired man and a child that could possibly be his son, hanging from his neck. The boy could not have been more than four years old. On either side of the frame were small wood carved animals with a small string of beads wrapped around their throats. One was a Terran large browser, an elk other was a horse.

Spock lingered for another few moments, casting his eyes once towards the plush chair before stepping out of the room and following the hall to the next. The door again was ajar and Spock found it logical explanation enough that if the occupant had wanted their privacy complete they would have shut the door entirely. Spock nudged it open and stepped into a room he knew instantly for Jim's.

And the walls were clustered with framed photographs, strings of trophy ribbons and placement cups. Narrow shelves mounted into the coffee colored walls were clustered to near over flowing, ribbons spilling over the edge and pinned to each other, cups whose silver and gold was engraved with words, each was different: _Award for Excellence of Performance in Youth Rodeo, Third Place Team Roping Junior Rodeo, Second Place Reining Junior Rodeo, Second Place Barrel Racing Iowa State Rodeo, First Place Novice Dressage Iowa State Horseshow, First Place Reining Iowa State Rodeo, Second Place Reining National Rodeo and Horseshow; Las Vegas, Nevada, Third Place Freestyle Dressage Grand Prix; London_ and they went on, a list of conquered positions in rodeos and horseshows across the Americas and into Europe and Australia.

There were photographs, some color and some black and white, mounted on the trophy wall in sleek black frames. Each from a winner's circle or from behind the fencing of an ongoing competition. Not one of them was anything but Jim sitting quietly and confidently in the saddle on a horse. Sometimes in a Stetson and other times in breeches and sleek black riding boots.

In almost every one of them the handler holding the horse for the picture was Cody, her chest puffed proudly and balancing a ribbon, cup, belt buckle or award plate in her other hand.

In almost every picture Jim was sitting astride Yellow Wolf.

Spock dragged his eyes away and took in the rest of the room.

Jim had more windows than Cody did. His room seemed to be on the corner of the house and almost the entirety of two walls, the north and west, were planes of thick glass. Just beyond them the gnarled and twisted limbs of trees were starting to lose the leaves that had turned from green to reds and golds. Another large bed was pushed into the corner under these windows, the spreads shades of pale gold and russet instead of the tawny and blues of Cody's room. Though they still heaped unmade over the mattress and posts of the bed frame.

There was an antique hardwood desk in the corner occupied by a personal computer and a strew stack of datapads mixed in with the printed paperwork and slim books. The closet was shut and Spock did not venture so far as to open it. A low, long shelf against the far wall was stocked with Jim's cache of books, the foot locker was setting at the end of his bed. Above the shelf was a single, massive black and white photograph, nearly three feet long and two feet high.

The image was simple, a small half circle of fold out chairs were set up along what looked like a row of stalls. Each was occupied by a human, though they were all nearly dressed alike, bundled up in thick barn coats, Stetson's low around their ears, jeans and work boots. The image taken was so detailed that the vapor of their breath was visible, enough to conclude the temperature was far from agreeable at the event. The group was sitting with their hands tucked into their pockets, shoulders shrugged up against the cold, around a large lantern that served as their 'campfire'. Lying on the dirt floor were the images of a much younger Canteska and another German Shepherd that if it was still at Native Sky Ranch Spock had yet to meet it. Above the group a few horses had slung their heads over their stall doors to look on at the lantern and listened to the voices with perked ears. Spock stepped closer, trying to make out their faces.

Jim was there, and next to him Cody and on her left was the dark eyed and haired man from the photograph above Jim's chair. Curled up in the man's lap was the same child, obviously sleeping against his shoulder. Spock's eyebrow lifted at the man on Jim's right.

It was Doctor McCoy. The medical officer had his attention tilted towards Jim and Cody and seemed to actually be enjoying himself… or at the very least wasn't frowning, rolling his eyes or gritting his teeth in the picture. On McCoy's right were four other men that looked to be the same ethnic of Cody and Spock recognized their faces from other portraits around the ranch home, though he knew none of their names.

Scribbled in Jim's neat hand writing, along the edge of the matte, were the words _World Equestrian Games; October 2255; Great Falls, Montana_.

Spock studied the photograph for several long minutes before dragging hit attention away to rest of Jim's room. There was a brother to Jim's chair here, the fabric a deep russet color but it held none of the characteristics nor impression of Cody in it. Next to the russet chair was a small, low table supporting a large, glass jar that was filled to the brim with water, has a small bed of red and brown pebbles and two black fish swimming lazily around their simple world. Spock narrowed his eyes and peered down at the fish, Black Moors, and watched as they drifted towards the surface at his approach and sank back to their casual circles when he stepped away.

A last looked towards the photograph on the wall before Spock slipped out of the room to join Canteska and Nemo A534 in the hall. The two dogs cocked their heads and looked towards Spock, as if asking him if his curiosity was satiated.

The hybrid lifted his chin slightly at what he could call 'smug' looks of the dogs and walked passed them towards the stairs and down into the kitchen. He heard the awkward hitching steps of Nemo A534 and the stiffened walk of Canteska on his heels. He set his now empty mug into the sink, resisting the urge to clean it at the moment and crossed to the mud room.

Spock made short work of pulling on and lacing up his new boots and stretching his coat over his shoulders. The two German Shepherds cocked their heads, sitting in the center of the terra cotta tiles, watching as Spock slipped out the door into the yard, now light by the first reaches of early daylight.

Jim had requested that he keep his exploration to the house and barn. Thought he had not gone through every room of the house he had more than enough to consider from the two rooms upstairs, the pictures and fish in the bowls, the bleach skulls, glass bottles, the awards and books about monsters.

Spock crossed the lawn in long, measured strides. His breath came in puffs of vapor that clouded around his face. The bitter air nipped at the tips of his ears and edge of his jaw. Horses threw up their heads and watched in silence from behind their fences as Spock swiftly worked over the earth towards the barn and stepped into the warmer air and the thick scent of dry hay, stall bedding, animal sweat and leather. Spock tucked his hands into the pockets of the coat, clenching his fingers closed to fight off the cold and he walked slowly along the row of stalls. He stopped whenever a stall door was closed and stepped closer to lean over and look it.

More often than not the stall was empty, the door simply closed for a reason beyond Spock's comprehension. It was starting to get monotonous until Spock glanced into one stall and had to look again.

Lying in the bedding, with his legs folded neatly under him, was a whitetail fawn. An albino.

The fawn tilted his head and blinked large blue eyes up at Spock, flicking over large ears and sniffing daintily.

Spock blinked back at the albino, picking out the faint designs of spots across his back and following the slight curve of the small, leather foal halter around his head. The fawn's tail gave a single swish before he lurched awkwardly up onto slim legs and tiny hooves. He tossed his head and walked nearly silent towards Spock and stood waiting at the door, looking up at the hybrid.

Spock hesitated, unsure if he should pay the whitetail any attention at all, if he should go into the stall or let the fawn out.

The animal in the stall let out a sudden, soft whistle like call and swished his tail. Spock watched the albino for another few seconds before sliding the latch back and sliding the stall door open. The fawn daintily stepped out of the stall and gave himself a shake before looking back up at Spock, swishing his tail and twitching his ears. The whitetail blinked large blue eyes at the hybrid as he crossed over and shoved his nose roughly into Spock's hand.

The brush of wet skin and feral emotion shocked up Spock's arm. A blur of youth, curiosity, fear and disinterest slid across his brain like cold water. Spock drew his hand back from the fawn's nose, feeling slightly queasy and stuffed it back into his pocket.

That only seemed to interest the animal more and Spock stepped back as the albino crowded his space, the animal himself wondering where the treat the stranger had gone for was. The fawn bleated imploringly and followed Spock in his retreat.

The half-Vulcan, slightly unsettled by the aggression showed by the small herbivore, side stepped around the albino and walked away down the line of stalls. The fawn cocked his head and blinked at the infidel for a moment before whistling loudly and bounding after Spock, following the hybrid step for step and trying to muscle his way passed Spock's hand into his pocket. The hybrid only jerked away and tried to ignore the young animal and his protests as he resumed looking into closed stalls.

Other than the fawn's, they were all empty, only the smell of dry, clean shavings and cedar coming from them.

Spock glanced into the wash area, not able to help noticing that the stone tiles were slightly frosted over. The fawn gave up on trying to get into Spock's pocket and followed quietly along in on the stranger's heels. Swishing his tail and whistling or bleating softly now and again, if only to get Spock to glance down at him from time to time.

Spock hesitated at the doors that led into the tack and trophy room and all the way across to the indoor arena. A rustle, whisper of noise catching his attention and Spock stepped further along the tack room to the edge of the mountain of stacked hay bales. He stood still and waited, the fawn nudging at his elbow. Above, approximately three meters, the soft sound of something shifting through the hay drifted down. Spock stepped closer and the movement and sound stopped, two lamp like, green eyes looked back at him. The hybrid made out the lanky and curved shape of a cat, hunched in the hay, the animal's entire body rigid in the shadow of the stable barn.

Spock moved closer and was met with a low, dangerous growl. The cat crouched lower to the hay, pinned its ears and drew back its lips in a snarl.

Spock blinked as the growl pitched and turned into a kind of hissing whine.

Spock edged closer and the animal scrambled, a flurry movement and the cat dashed up the side of the hay heap and disappeared into a gap between two bales.

Spock stood slightly abashed in its wake. He had become somewhat used to the idea that the animals at Native Sky Ranch were more than friendly, save for the protective anger of Wagi… even helpful at times. The cat's obvious, outward hostility was a very slight shock to the norm. Spock looked back at the place the cat had disappeared but moved back to the doors of the tack room and rushed them open. The fawn right on his heels as Spock hesitated before crossing the long room to the second doors and slipped out into the arena. His boots sank immediately into the soft, granular dirt. It shifted and swept easily under his weight, kicking up slightly in small puffs. The air of the arena was cool, nearly as cool as it had been in the outdoors. The arena was massive, a large oval covered in the thick layer of dirt. The walls made of the same stone base and log walls as the ranch home. All along one side of the arena was a mirror that was easily ten feet tall and curved the entire length of the wall. The far end of the arena was another set of double doors that Spock wasn't ready to find out where they led to.

His mind was still shifting, trying to accommodate all the new speculations and calculations and balance the strain of lacking meditation and proper sleep. He starting to feel a little light headed and unsteady, as if he was displaced from his own feet. In his core the threads tightened and shifted a little, the space in his chest cavity felt hollow and cool, far cooler than he would like. His slowly healing wrist ached and a twist of pain was settling itself low in the small of his back.

Spock hesitated a moment before trying to stretch, arch his back the same way that he'd Jim and other humans do. He felt his muscles pulling and contracting, felt the bones shifting.

A sharp crackle and pop echoed loudly in the arena and Spock went rigid with the spasm of pain that went with it. At his side the fawn cocked his head and ears forward in confusion of the sound.

Spock slowly and cautiously returned himself to his natural stance, the pain ebbed slightly.

"That was a decidedly unpleasant experience." He said aloud.

The fawn snorted softly before twitching his ears back and swinging his head around. The fawn whistled, wheeled around and took off at a bounding trot. Spock watched the fawn for a moment before looking up towards the open double doors and noticing Wagi standing in the doorway.

The large Shepherd pinned her ears when Spock locked eyes with her, the dog seemed to just barely restrain a growl before turning and walking back into the tack and trophy room, the albino fawn bounding happily on her heels.

Spock waited a moment, knowing that the reappearance of Wagi was a sign that Cody and Jim were either returned from their work in the peaks or on their way. Spock turned on his heels, glancing at his own stride in the massive mirror as he moved across the arena, through the tack and trophy room and out into the aisle of the stable barn where the fawn seemed to be trying to engage Wagi in a romp. The dark Shepherd was putting up a good resistance, sitting back on her haunches and lifting her head out of the way when the albino whitetail reared up and boxed the air before dropping back to his small hooves. Spock moved until he stood alongside Wagi, giving the dog a fair bit of space and respect. Spock was only sure of it because Wagi didn't pin her ears back, bristle or act hostile in any way.

In fact, it seemed like she was bent on ignoring him all together.

That was perfectly acceptable to Spock.

He settled hands into the small of his back, watching the fawn and dog out of the corner of his eye. Occasionally Wagi would lift a paw and bat halfheartedly at the whitetail before placing it firmly back on the dirt pack.

Spock pulled his attention away at the sound of rough, gasping pants watched as Situpsa ambled into the double doorway of the stable barn, rushed over to their small inspection line and dropped onto his belly exhausted. The short dog let out a soft whine and shut his brown eyes all together. Spock looked on at the small dog for a moment before the sound of steady, slow hoof beats echoed into the stable barn and washed over his ears.

He looked towards the double doors, the shadows of Cody and Jim on horseback casting over the aisle. They were sitting lightly in the saddle seat, the horses moving of their own volition on loose reins as Jim and Cody seemed caught up in some depth of signed conversation, the language spilling out over their knuckles, fingers and palms so rapidly Spock was unable to follow it.

Cody was sitting astride the buckskin stud that Spock had seen the morning before in the paddock with the other male horses. Jim's mount was a large Quarter Horse mare. The horse was a rose grey; the pale, dapple silver pelt had a distinct and heavy reddish color to it, the darkened legs looked almost burgundy.

Jim glanced up and looked a little surprised, his hands literally stuttering mid sign before he snaked one from his vocabulary and addressed Spock, hands moving in time with his voice.

"Spock. Everything alright?"

Cody noticed the change and dragged her eyes towards the hybrid, quickly lifting her hand in the twitching wave that seemed reserved for Spock alone. He returned it as he addressed Jim.

"Everything is fine Jim."

"What are you doing out in the barn?" Jim's hands flew, jumping from Spock's words to his own. Cody seemed to try and follow for a few minutes as the horses walked up on Spock and the animals in the short inspection line, but then Jim started tumbling over his signs and he shook her head and walked the buckskin stud passed them and along the line of stalls. Jim cast her a look before dropping his hands and speaking quietly to Spock.

"I was merely exercising my curiosity, Jim. You requested that I restrict my exploration to the barn and household, I have done so." The hybrid assured, tilting his head back as Jim stopped the rose grey mare next to Spock and sat lightly above him. The length and thickness of the mare mane draped over the horse's neck and face in a long sheet of multi colored strands, shadowing her eyes from sight.

As she stood still the mare arched her neck until her chin nearly touched her chest, working the bit between her teeth though Jim's hands were not on the reins at all. She squared up her front, setting her forelegs in line with each other, and swayed her rear, one leg braced out and the other swung up and under to support her weight comfortably.

It looked as if the mare had dropped into a 'show stance' by nature, her ears thrown forward and nostrils flaring.

"Her name is Titmouse."

Spock pulled his eyes away from the rose grey. "Pardon."

"You were staring at her. Her name is Titmouse. Technically it's 'Bridled Titmouse'… you know after the song bird?" Jim lightly laid his palm on the mare's shoulder, not patting or stroking, just touching. Titmouse shifted and seemed to press into his palm as much as she could. A soft nicker rose from her throat.

Tempted, Spock reached out to do the same, he jumped slightly when Jim's hand snatched a hold of his wrist and held him back.

"Don't Spock." Jim warned. "I _know_ Titmouse was abused."

The warning and concern, for both Spock and the mare, thrummed down Spock's arm from the place their skin touched. Jim pulled his hand back before a true connection formed.

"Took me a _very_ long time to get her gentled." Jim lightly kicked his boot free and swung down from the saddle. As he did Titmouse tensed slightly, sucking in a breath. Jim immediately went to assuring her, lightly stroking her neck, brushing the mane from her eyes and whispering to her in the native Lakota language.

She dipped her head, pressing her muzzle into Jim's hip and let out a sigh.

"She's still not quite over it. Been ten years, you know?" Jim said absently over the horse's back to Spock. "Ten years and every time I dismount she braces and sucks in like that. I mean, compared to what I had to work through its nothing but… it hurts your feelings a little bit. When someone you would never hurt still tightens up… in the off chance that you might."

There was an abject sorrow and lonesomeness in Jim's voice at the declaration. After a moment he and Titmouse let out a simultaneous sigh, the air rushing out of their lungs with a slight rattle. It made Jim's lips quirk slightly and a small laugh slipped from his lungs.

"Well… you can't have everything." Jim shrugged one shoulder and met Spock's eyes. The feral edge of silver around the cerulean pools had drawn back to thin rings, just below a masked surface Spock could still make out the dredges of hurt and disappointment that he'd heard in the blonde man's voice.

"You are not riding Yellow Wolf." Spock observed.

"Wolfie's not my only horse. And he got worked yesterday anyway. Just like a person, you can't ask too much of them." Jim stepped backward, pacing evenly. Titmouse turned on her heels and followed dutifully without being directed. "It's not fair if you ask the same horse to do the same ride every single day, especially when it's a hard one like we take up into the pastures on the peak."

Jim retreated until his back was pressed into a stall door and Titmouse's nose was pressed into his sternum.

"Over exertion." Spock concluded.

"And boredom. A bored horse is a destructive horse. It's like a kid Spock, you have to keep their bodies and minds busy." Jim reached for the lead rope looped around the horn of his saddle and deftly tied Titmouse into place at the stall door. Jim moved around and set to work freeing her from the tack, loosening and sliding the cinch free and unbuckling the breast collar.

"I see." Spock moved across to stand alongside Jim, watching his every move carefully, far more in tuned into the mechanics of saddling a horse.

"Spock?"

"I am trying to understand the process of saddling a horse so when my lesson occurs later I may be able to do it myself with little instruction."

Jim quirked his lips. "If it works for you but you're not using a saddle."

Spock stilled. "Explain."

"You're riding bareback today. No tack." Jim explained.

"I… Jim I believe that is an unwise course of action."

"Pray tell, why?" Jim seemed just on the edge of teasing him. But it was a gentle kind of humor, like softening a blow for comfort more than to illicit anger.

"It is unsafe to so ride a horse without the required equipment of a saddle, bridle and other necessities." Spock stiffened and stepped out of the way as Jim pulled down the saddle and set it aside before sliding the blanket off the mare as well.

"The only thing 'unsafe' about riding a horse is getting up there and trying to play cowboy when you don't know shit _or_ getting up there and _thinking_ it's dangerous." Jim sighed quietly. "I'm not going to lie to you Spock, this is going to be rough on you."

"You believe I will not perform to your standards-"

"No." Jim said quickly, swiftly sweeping a brush over titmouse's hide before lifting each of her feet or a quick inspection and pick. "I'll know you'll do your best and everything but like you said couple month's back, this is unnatural for you. Which means it's going to be unnatural for the horse because you're going in with a mindset, you know? And that's the greatest sin someone can commit, going in with a plan and a mindset because then you have all these expectations and misgivings and it screws up the horse and this is why we do this before we can walk."

Jim said it all very roughly and harshly, hefting up his saddle and marching across aisle into the tack room, Wagi, Situpsa and the albino fawn scrambled to get out of his way and looked after him when he passed into the room and out of sight. Spock lifted an eyebrow, watching for a moment before casting his eyes towards Cody. The petite woman was watching the same place Jim had just stepped through. After a moment she twisted and looked towards Spock. Her face changed to an unmistakable look of concern.

She lifted her hand and signed out Jim's name before finger spelling another word.

Spock had learned and logged away the signed alphabet in a matter of a few minutes and he could easily read sign spelled words. It made communicating much simpler and Spock could simply wait or ask for the language sign of the spelled word afterwards.

He followed Cody's fingers, spelling as she did.

_Jim's worried_

After she was done, Spock nodded in understanding and Cody shrugged one shoulder before hefting up her saddle and following in the young captain's wake.

While Spock could understand that 'Jim's worried' it did little to explain exactly what the human was worried about in particular. Spock cast his eyes towards Titmouse and was offset to find the mare had swung her head around and was looking at him, ears pricked forward, from behind her long fetlock. Her large brown eyes were just visible behind the curtain of mixed hair. She nickered quietly at Spock, considering him as much as he considered her. Titmouse cocked her head slightly before swinging it back around and letting out a low sigh. The sound of boots crossing the earth lifted Spock attention from the mare. Jim's stride held none of the tension it had only moments ago. Either he'd calmed himself or Cody had spread her influence in a matter of moments. Jim had a yellow halter and lead rope slung over his shoulder.

"I figure I'm going to put you on Hornet. Don't worry about the name, he came with it. He's one of mine anyway and not a lick of spite in him." Jim sighed, walking around Spock to easily slide the bridle and bit from Titmouse's head and unbuckled her halter. Jim slipped the mare a treat from his pocket and gently shoved her away. Titmouse swung around and lightly trotted down the aisle of the stable barn and stood waiting in the doorway. The sunlight making the red in the grey coat stand out, turning the mare a near pink color. Her thick mane and tail swishing lightly, she looked back and nickered, waiting, knowing she couldn't get into the pasture she wanted without human hands to open the gate.

"How many horses are you in possession of?" Spock asked, falling into step next to Jim as the young man slipped the bridle over his shoulder along with the yellow halter and lead rope.

"Eight."

The hybrid blinked. "Eight?"

"Yellow Wolf, Bridled Titmouse, Hornet, Blue Moon, Winchester, River Dog, Woyuske and Misu… the last three are 'Stangers."

"Stangers?" Spock repeated the word awkwardly.

"Mustangs." Jim provided. "Wolfie, Hornet and Blue are Paints, Titmouse is a Quarter and Winchester is an Appaloosa. I'm a stickler for the all American Rides."

"Is this preference due to experience or speculation." Spock questioned.

Jim looked slightly uncomfortable. "Little bit of both. Maybe a little bit more of something else."

"An explanation for your last statement is in order." Spock prompted.

Jim didn't answer, only waved Titmouse on. The mare turned and walked a head of them, leading the way out of the barn and across the lawn to another chained, welded pipe fence. The mare shifted impatiently at the gate for Jim and Spock.

Jim nudged passed Titmouse, unchained the gate with a hand and pulled it open; forcing both Titmouse and Spock to dance out of the way… there was more dancing on the mare's part. She twisted on her heels and burst through the gap Jim made with a nicker of joy and thanks to the human. She raced towards a group of horses far off into the pasture. Spock started to follow in her wake but stalled and backed up when Jim waved him back.

Spock cocked his head, waiting, looking on as Jim continued to stand motionless with the gate open. A few moments slipped by.

"Jim-"

A flash of black and gold charged passed Spock, knocking his words back into his throat. Spock blinked and the blur was gone, he looked out across the long native grasses at the gold furred horse pelting after Titmouse. The hybrid cast his eyes to Jim for an explanation.

"Blackbird. Cody's boss horse. He's Woflie's full brother… but he's strange…" Jim looked slightly troubled as he waved Spock forward and closed the gate behind them.

"Strange?"

"Yeah… like he's… I don't know… he's just really _human_ I guess is the best way to put it."

This statement only added to the turmoil in Spock head. Wasn't that what Jim instilled and preached? That horses possessed a human like awareness?

"This is undesirable?"

"No." Jim curbed Spock to follow in the wake of the buckskin and rose grey horses towards the herd further off. "No, not for us out here. But… it's kind of eerie. Cody says it's because he's not a horse."

"It seems that all his behavior, mental and physical make up down to his genetics count as equine. I do not understand the logic behind believing otherwise."

"Cody's got it figured out that he's a _Wakj'ya_… a Thunderbird." Jim shrugged one shoulder.

"Is this a different breed of horse entirely?"

"The Thunderbirds are more ancient than the Creator, Spock. Before man and animal and the Spirit the Thunderbird had the Land and Sky for themselves. The sparks in their eyes were lighting, the beat of their wings thunder and one sweep of them could make storms that lasted for days on end. They're ancient, powerful… you know about Christianity, right?"

"I have some knowledge."

"Angels?"

"The common human rendition?"

"No. The real kind. Soldiers. Like in _Revelations_. That's what Thunderbirds are like. They take on the skins of men and animals so they can walk among us." Jim relayed, shifting the yellow halter, lead rope and Titmouse's bridle higher on his shoulder to tuck his hands into his pocket.

"Ms. Chi… Cody is under the impression that Blackbird is a Thunderbird of the legend that you speak of, only walking in the skin of a horse?" Spock asked, trying to keep the incredulous tone from his voice.

"Doesn't make sense to me either. Thunderbirds hate horses for taking the Land from them, one wouldn't wear a horse skin unless it was on pain of death, I figure."

Jim shrugged and walked on, clearly not noticing Spock slight hitch in step and the quickly smothered look of dismay that Jim once again resigned himself to believe in fantasy and fictions over reality.

"Alright Spock, you ready?"

"You will have to be more specific, Jim."

"For your lesson?" Jim sighed and came to a stop on a slight ridge that looked down into a dip in the pasture where a fresh water creek ribboned its way through the property, bubbling and tumbling quietly over half submerged rocks and stony stream bed. Below them, at the edge of the running water, was a group of about twelve horses. Each a different color and conformation, several were painted and more of them sported the arched freeze brand along their necks of numbers and letters declaring them mustangs taken off the land.

"Alright, Hornet is that yellow dun paint down there." Jim pointed towards a horse, possibly about sixteen hands tall, in the thick of the group. The animal's hide was a dull, almost faded, shade of goldenrod. A dark mane and tail swished lazily brushing the horse next to him. A long thick stripe of black ran down the length of his spine, his legs turned darker as they worked down to neat, large hooves of dark horn. At his knees the black had broken up into faded stripes that reached a little up his legs before they faded. The dun horse had a small, irregular design of white marked along his neck and down his shoulder before ending near his elbow. The marking nor nearly as large and noticeable as they were on Yellow Wolf or a number of the other horses Spock had looked on.

"He's about nine years old. A gelding that I bought a two years ago before we went on deployment. He had pneumonia last year and Cody was able to save him but his wind is broken for it, so he's good for lessons and light work, can't really press him cause he gets out of breath and chokes. He's pretty bombproof and reacts great so he'll be a good start for you. Whoever gentled him took their time and covered all their bases." Jim shifted the bridle, halter and lead down from his shoulder. He separated the bridle and slid it back onto his shoulder. Jim clipped the lead into place on the chin ring of the yellow halter. After checking it was secure he passed the halter and lead to Spock.

The hybrid dutifully held it and waited for Jim to call the horse and ask for it back.

"You know which horse I'm talking about? Down there, you can tell which one Hornet is?"

"Yes."

"Alright. Go down there and catch him." Jim waved Spock on and took a step back.

The hybrid went very still. "Pardon?"

"Go catch him." Jim repeated.

"'Catch' him?"

"Walk down there and put his halter on and lead him back up here. You can't ride him if he's not there to ride. Got to catch him first."

"… How?"

"Well you walk up to him, probably make some noise on the way down and say his name so he and the rest of 'em know your coming, then put this part-" Jim tugged at the nose band of the halter. "- over his nose, then buckle it behind his ears."

He moved his hand from the nose band top the open buckle and strap. Giving it a gentle tug before stepping back again.

"Then you can hold the lead or put it across your shoulders and walk back up here. If he stops walking just tug him a little and he'll start again." Jim settled his hands on his hips.

Spock hesitated, shifting his weight uncomfortably, looking at Jim who looked at him expectantly.

"This particular horse is in the middle of the group."

"When you walk at 'em they'll either move on their own or you can give 'em a push and they'll move out of the way."

"I misunderstand why I must perform this action-"

"You want to learn to ride?"

"… yes."

"You need a horse to do that."

Spock had the odd suspicion that this conversation had happened before, to Jim, and possibly innumerable others in the past that were suddenly and roughly tossed into a paddock with a group of strange horses. Jim's tone and voice echoed with an ancient underlying familiarity that was not a part of the whispered wordless language that made up so much of his actions and will. This was different.

Jim's words seemed to resonate through time, taking a little of each voice that had ever spoken them, passing them on in a true oral tradition.

And in it Spock found no room for debate or bargaining, what was being asked of him must be done.

Spock was unsure but the residual feeling of importance hung in the air, like the ancient traditions that Spock had been privy to in his youth as his father's side, listening to monotone and rolling rumble of a Vulcan elder reciting Surak's teachings in their native tongue.

This, in its own way, was one of what promised to be an arduous and long series of rites of passage.

In Cody's libraries Spock had read some tribes of the Native peoples of America, the horse tribes, that a young man was resigned to walk on his own two feet until a time came that he went into the scrub lands or the lees of canyons and mountains to find and capture his own mustang to train and ride. Only then was he allowed to sit on the back of a horse.

Spock supposed he should be grateful that Hornet was a tame, already trained animal.

"Here, before you go." Jim reached around and pulled something from his back pocket and held it out to Spock. "I know they're leather and that's a taboo and everything but I don't really have any that are cloth. I'll look around better when I have time. Better than nothing right now, though."

In Jim's hands was a pair of worn, leather riding gloves. Spock stared at the offering for a moment before shifting the halter and lead to take the gloves. He tried to hide the twitch of disgust for the tanned hide of them as he ran his fingers over the surfaces.

"Thank you Jim." Spock said stiffly and with a little discomfort pulled the gloves over his hands, the warmth of his skin molding the leather to his shape in a matter of seconds. Jim nodded once then waved him on towards his task at hand.

Spock took a breath, tightened his grip on the lead and halter and started down the slope at a steady, walk. He paused only briefly to look back at Jim once before quickening his stride slightly, consciously trying to make noise.

The horses either hadn't heard him or had heard him and lacked interest to acknowledge him. Spock paused several yards away from the cluster of horses, each swishing and shifting, nipping at long grasses and twitching their ears. He noted Blackbird and Titmouse on the edge of the herd, sucking water from the lip of the creek.

Humans had certain ways of gaining attention from disinterested parties, Spock decided, since it was a human tradition he was learning in a very human way, that one such practice would be prudent.

Spock wetted his lips, shifted the halter and lead awkwardly in his hands before distinctly and loudly clearing his throat.

Every horse in the group looked up at him, ears perked and nostrils flared simultaneously.

Above him Spock heard the distinct noise of Jim stifling a bark of laughter.

Spock felt a little more blood than usual pool at the tips of his ears before his took a calming breath and confidently turned his full attention back to the horses, particularly looking at the painted dun near the thick of the animals.

"Hornet." Spock tried to soften his voice the way Jim's did when he spoke to the animals.

Several of the horses immediately turned back to their grazing and a few near the dun shifted away. The gelding snorted softly and took a few steps forward, pushing a black painted mare out of his way.

Spock let out a slightly relieved breath; it was possible that Hornet would walk right up to him, save him from venturing into the group of animals.

Hornet stopped, looking at the stranger from behind a chestnut gelding. Ears pricked forward and nickered at Spock.

Resigning himself again Spock buried the wisps of emotion threatening to surface and strode forwards. In an instant the mood of the herd changed. Head's threw up, ears pinned, nostrils flared and teeth grit. They skittishly shuffled away from Spock, clustering together and swinging around so Spock was faced with rear quarters instead of shoulders and faces. They nickered and whinnied nervously and danced away from the hybrid as if he was some predator on the prowl. Hornet shifted with the group, keeping a particular close eye on the stranger, his ears swayed anxiously but not pinned.

"SPOCK! STOP! BACK OFF!" Jim's voice cut through the air, making several horses jump and snort in protest. Spock followed the order instantly, stepping back a yard or two, as soon as the distance was between them the horses settled, but much more tense and aware of Spock's presence now, all eyes were watching him warily.

"Quit trying to pretend you're not nervous!" Jim barked down from the ridge above. "Pretending and lying to a horse only get's you hurt!"

"I am not nervous." Spock retorted loudly.

"Now you're lying to me! One more strike, Spock! You want out of the game before it's even started?!"

Spock grit his teeth marginally.

"They don't care what you're feeling Spock! It doesn't matter to them! What matters to them is that you're hiding something! That's predator stuff! If you feel like you have to hide something from them then they figure you're dangerous _because_ of that! Horses don't judge you for race or culture Spock! They judge you on trust and honesty! Be honest with them, they could care less what you feel so long as you're not lying to them about it!"

Spock shut his eyes and calmed himself, letting Jim's words turn over in his mind.

Very carefully Spock released his hold on the flickers of emotion that had been surfacing only moments before. Trepidation, fear, confusion… they churned together in an unfamiliar mass that threatened to choke Spock and left a bitter taste in his mouth. It was unfamiliar and the pressure in his mind added to the new one forged in his chest. They blended with the ache starting in his lower back and all of it bubbled and boiled into a relatively unpleasant mass of discomfort.

There was a rush of warm, moist air over his wrist; a low noise brushed over his ears then curled in the hollow of his chest. Spock opened his eyes.

Hornet stood patiently next to him, ears still swayed, head dipped towards his hand and a rear hoof on the turn back. Clustered on either side of Hornet the other horses had ventured closer, still looking warily at the stranger and shuffling a little nervously at his presence. Spock let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, not quiet understanding the shift in the horses around him. He waited a few moments before carefully moving. The horses jumped slightly, tensing, a few less tolerant ones turned and trotted away.

Hornet himself only lifted his head marginally and pinned his ears for a moment before swaying them again.

The hybrid shifted the halter around in his hands and awkwardly slid the nose band over Hornet's muzzle. When the horse didn't react except to sigh loudly, Spock reached around and tried to buckle the band behind his ears. His arms bent and awkwardly twisted to try and avoid rubbing against Hornet's eyes before Spock took a step to the side and fitted the halter from the side of the horse's head instead of the front.

Spock notched the halter into place were the nylon was more misshapen and worn from use. He could comfortably slide his hand between the halter and Hornet's head. Spock did just that, ghosting his hands lightly over the furred skin of the horse's cheek and under his eye.

Hornet only blinked lazily and sighed while Spock felt an odd displacement. He could not feel the warmth of the animal's flesh or the texture of his fur through the leather of his gloves. While it prevented him from being impressed by the animal's mind with was uncomfortable and oddly disquieting to be so removed from the horse.

After a moment Spock came back himself, still allowing the slightest sheen of emotion to stay surfaced and gently tugged one Hornet's lead. The horse put up a slight hesitation before falling docilely into step behind him, parting from the herd to walk with the stranger and following him up the slight slope to where Jim waited with his arms crossed.

Spock hesitated before the young captain, the dun paint bumping into his shoulder at the sudden stop but didn't pull, push or walk away from Spock. The hybrid lifted his head, waiting judgment from the blonde who was a novice in the pits of space but a seasoned veteran on solid ground.

The cerulean blue of Jim's eyes had nearly been eclipsed by silver. He looked Spock up and down once, before looking at the dun paint. Spock resisted the urge to back away or shiver. The man before him was not entirely the Jim he knew. This was the creature that Spock glimpsed in the heat of crisis or when his hands laid on a horse, legs wrapped over their spines. This was the feral construct of the man he was familiar with.

Spock highly doubted that Jim suffered from the human ailment of multiple personalities but looking at the barely tamed creature in Jim's skin before him was disquieting. The title of Jim or James Kirk didn't fit with this creature. 'Tiberius' was a more fitting nomer.

"You alright, Spock?"

His voice had changed, deepening slightly and hummed, churning with the unspoken whispers and hisses of that wordless ancient language was neither mans nor animals. The weight of it so thick in his voice and laced into each word Spock thought he could see it ghosting from Jim's mouth in a tangible cloud that hung in the air a moment before fading with the vapor his breath caused in the cool air.

Spock knew what his Vulcan upbringing should respond. Knew what an officer in Starfleet should assure.

He also knew what Jim was actually asking him.

"It is… uncomfortable." He replied simply, not all together sure how to relay to the blonde about the displacement he felt from Hornet, or the pain in his lower back or the creeping and curling of a foreign influence in the space between his lungs and ribs.

Jim's head cocked slightly, it almost looked like an animal's reaction.

"Is it enough to stop you?"

"No." Spock responded immediately. Jim's head lifted slightly, his silver and blue eyes flickering. Slowly some of the silver bled away and more of the Jim Spock was familiar with returned. The near feral creature that had stood before the hybrid only seconds before was drawn back, tied back into place with only enough room to stretch a little influence.

"Alright. Let's get into the arena. It's probably heated up by now."

Spock lifted an eyebrow. "The arena is heated?"

Jim nodded and turned to walk at Spock and Hornet's side. "So's the whole barn. Air conditioned to in the summer heat."

"The construction of such measures as air circulation is convenient."

"Nothing but the best for Native Sky." Jim shrugged one shoulder and moved ahead to open the gate and stand back for Spock and Hornet to pass through, swinging and chaining it closed behind them.

"Ms… Cody is well known in the horse culture?" Spock asked.

Jim grinned. "Oh yeah. The Chicalato name would be bigger if the brothers were in on it too but they weren't the riding types. It's really just Cody on the circuit, plus a couple of the Kids are starting to compete a little."

"You're forgetting yourself." Spock responded.

For a split second Jim's steps hitched before they fell back into place. "'M sorry?"

"On my exploration of the upper level the ranch home I observed your collection of awards and trophies for showmanship and excellence in riding from a very young age."

One of Jim's eyebrows shot to his hair line. "You went into my room?"

Spock felt something akin to discomfort threaten his integrity as they stepped out of the cool air of the yard into the warmer shadow of the stable barn. "The door was not entirely sealed."

Jim huffed quietly and rolled his eyes, actually throwing Spock a quirked smile on his lips. "It's fine. I don't really have anything to hide out here."

Reassured Spock continued. "You have been very successful 'in the show ring' I believe is the correct term. Most under the insignia and banner of the Chicalato's ranch."

"Yep." Jim agreed and walked a head of Spock and Hornet, through the tack and trophy room and out the secondary set of double doors into the arena. Spock and the dun paint followed dutifully, walking passed the three German Shepherds, the Welsh Corgi and the albino fawn. The sound of hooves connecting loudly with the hardwood flooring for a few stride made Spock look down at Hornet's feet until they passed into the loose earth of the ring.

The dirt under his boots shifted, accommodating and balancing his weight without persuasion or alteration. The air of the massive room was warm and hummed softly with the sounds of a climate control unit working somewhere out of sight. Jim steered them out towards the center of the arena. Looking around Spock noticed at the far end of the arena Cody sitting bareback astride a slender red roan gelding that looked particularly young. The animal was jumpy but responded to her light touches and instructions. The only piece of tack on the young horse a bridle, along the curve of his neck was the mustang freeze brand of letters and numbers. Spock watched her for a moment wondering at how it seemed that she and the horse were sharing a body, not two individuals and most certainly not two different species.

Cody seemed oblivious to the fact that there was a world outside the gelding. The muscles in her legs and hips compressing and relaxing against the ribs and shoulder of the mustang. The pressure enough cue, with the lightest tug of the reins, to turn the horse or back him up or any series of small actions.

Also in the arena Yellow Wolf stood off to the side, completely tackless, and looked on with pricked ears and a steady slow rise and fall of his rib cage. The painted buckskin's attention turned towards Jim, Spock and Hornet as they entered.

Giving a low nicker the stud started forward at plodding walk.

"Whoa, Wolfie." Jim called to the other horse.

The buckskin paint stopped dead in his tracks and pricked his ears forward, looking slightly confused but didn't move again save to swish his tail lazily.

"Alright Spock." Jim's voice snapped the hybrid's attention away from the buckskin paint to the blonde. "You're doing good but you are going to have to open up a little bit more when we get deeper into this."

"… You're referring to the level of emotion present." Spock said stiffly, his muscles tightening.

Next to him Hornet's head shot up and ears pinned with a nervous snort. The dun paint backed up to crowd into Jim's space. The young human looked over his shoulder at the horse before casting his eyes towards Spock.

"See that? You shut down again. You got tense and upset. Hornet can feel it."

Spock narrowed his eyes. "You are suggesting that horses are developed enough to show empathy."

"Yeah." Jim said bluntly. "Yeah they are and they do."

Spock pulled his eyes from Jim to look at Hornet crowded into his space. Jim took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Next to him Hornet did the same. Spock did not pull his attention away but he was vividly aware that Cody and the mustang colt had broken away from their corner of the arena and were moving at a casual, long legged trot around the perimeter of the space, following along the edge, gliding passed the mirror and looping around Jim and Hornet, Spock and Yellow Wolf as if they were only markers in some larger exercise.

"Spock you don't have to show emotion or act on it but you do have to acknowledge that it's there and be truthful about it. Don't call it by a different name or bury it. Like it said, Spock, they don't care what you're feeling or how you express it so long as you're not lying about it."

A muscle was working overtime at the corner of Spock jaw, though it was well masked Jim's hypersensitivity to the situation picked it out better than if Spock had spoken. The whispering language that curled across his skin and pooled in his joints hummed quietly, the silver bleeding back into his eyes.

The sound of the roan's hooves grew louder as Cody coaxed the mustang into a long legged lope and her circle around them tightened. The obstacles and presence of other horses and people forcing the animal to split his attention and deal with the stress while remaining calm and confident in the petite woman perched bareback on his spine. They turned into a kind of background noise, a constant in a world that was starting to tilt slightly under Spock's feet. The thundering rumble of the hooves and the catch of the mustang's breath matched the rapid heartbeat that fluttered low in his abdomen.

"The point of riding is a partnership built entirely on trust. The horse trusts you to steer him in the right direction, never harm him. And you have to trust the horse that he'll stay under you and protect you if the time comes." Jim's voice had softened, more of a coxing tone than an unyielding one. Spock wondered if this was another facet in the ever growing complexities that Jim was. Was this soft toned but firm creature a part of Jim or James or Tiberius or was there another, yet unnamed creature in that blonde skin?

"How the Hell are you supposed to trust each other when you can't communicate in the only way one side knows?" Jim continued."You have to try and trust them. They're willing to take it all off of you, Spock. You can tell them anything, any sin any fear and they're take it for what it is. You have to be willing to extend that to them and be just as willing to return the favor."

Cody and the roan loped around their circle, kicking up dirt and dust in their wake. As the mustang loped around Jim's back Cody's arm stretched out and the tips of her fingers brushed across the breadth of the young man's shoulders. Sweeping over his coat with enough pressure that Spock heard the fabric moving.

The touch was fast on the fly, light and altogether foreign to Spock. It was like a psychical acknowledgement. Like it was a way of grounding and pulling one back from the brink of spilling over into an unknown. And through it, though an animal that was easily ten times his weight and could easily kill him was less than a foot away from his back Jim didn't flinch.

Except for a flick of his silver and cerulean eyes it seemed that Jim hadn't felt the touch, much less the danger, his focus still on Spock. The hybrid studied the man across from him, listening to the sounds of hooves and breath as they blurred together slightly rounding his back.

A little more than surprise crossed Spock's mind when he felt the pressure of Cody's fingers, drawing the line across his shoulder blades. For less than a heartbeat his back was shadowed by heat, his senses overwhelmed by the scent of animal sweat and earth, the sound of harsh breath and hooves in his ear. The animal so close Spock felt vibrations rattling across his spine and through his chest. Cody's fingers swept off his far shoulder and the mustang loped on, widening the circle again and putting Cody out of physical reach.

Her face was still impassive, locked solely on the horse under her. As if she didn't see it out of the ordinary to bind someone to the earth and moment with stroke of her hand. There was a weight across his shoulders, settled firmly along the line Cody had drawn. It was far from uncomfortable. It was settled steadfast in place, like a physical reminder of the brief connection.

"We don't pass judgments around here, Spock." Jim's voice was quiet, almost humbled, drawing the half-Vulcan's eyes to him again as Cody and the mustang fell into the steady rhythm of the background. "Not until you lay your hands on the reins."

Spock let the words turn over in his head a few times before giving a hitching, awkward nod. Jim returned it.

"Toss the lead down and come around to Hornet's left side" Jim instructed, stepping away from the calmed horse. In silence Spock did was he bid and stood while Jim ducked under the horse's neck to stand next to him.

"Safest way to cross a horse in the front is under his neck." Jim dropped the tidbit of advice almost absently. It was clear was intending to go into the detail as they came along or all together at a different date but at the moment the larger picture was a more pressing matter.

"Bareback mount is tough at first, but once you know how to haul yourself up there its second nature. Hand on the shoulder-" Jim touched the arch of Hornet's shoulder. "- and one about mid rump."

The young captain stretched across Hornet's barrel, in front of Spock and ghosted his fingers over a point above the horse's hips, along his spine. Spock hesitated for a moment before settling one hand on Hornet's shoulder then splaying his palm and fingers over the spot Jim had touched. The layer of leather between them brought back into focus the detachment Spock felt from being cut off from the horse's mind.

At his placement of hands Hornet tensed, but it was none of the fearful or agitated tension. This tension was a brace, a locking of limbs and muscle, waiting to take on new weight.

"I'll give you a boost. When you're ready push off the earth with your right foot and down on his back with your hands, and swing your leg over his rear to straddle his back. When you're settled both hands should be on his shoulders."

"Understood." Spock wondered if the clinical way that Jim had described the event was typical or culled especially to the hybrid.

"Tell me when you're ready." Jim assured. Spock hesitated and took a breath, then nodded.

Jim bent slightly and hooked a hand under Spock's left ankle, forcing him to lift his foot and settle the weight into Jim's fingers. The blonde man allowed Spock the time he needed to try and organize himself over the trepidation the bubbled on the thin surface of emotion he allowed, giving him time to adjust.

A moment or two crawled by.

"Ready?"

"Yes."

"Alright. On three push off." Jim assured and coaxed at the same time, his voice still low and humble, though slightly muffled from half bent position.

"One."

Spock tensed, coiling his strength as best he could decipher he needed.

"Two."

The hybrid felt Jim's grip tighten on his ankle as he tipped onto the toe of his boot.

"Three."

Spock rocked back onto his heel and vaulted awkwardly up, Jim's grip tightened more and shoved firmly, a second hand moving to push Spock at the small of his back. In a disorienting blur his leg swung over, hands sliding and with a rush of air pushed from his lungs, landed firmly, straddling Hornet across the middle of his back.

Spock's vision spun for a heartbeat, mind bobbling before righting itself. It was another moment before he realized Jim had not relinquished his hold on Spock's ankle. His fingers wrapped firmly into the fabric of jeans, sock, thermal gear and the edge of his boot. Spock panted slightly, letting his heart slow a little after the trauma of the first mount.

"Still with me Spock?" Jim asked, his tone even calmer and quieter.

"Yes."

"You feeling alright?"

"I am slightly disoriented."

"To be expected, just relax and rest for a second." The hand on his ankle gave a slight squeeze.

Spock only nodded, trying to calm his breathing. It felt strange. Spock was literally sitting astride a living thing. He could feel the rise and fall of Hornet's ribs as he breathed; the low, steady rumble of his heart and the warmth of his flesh seeping through the fabrics of his jeans to his skin. He could feel the muscles shifting and coiling, though the animal only made the slightest shuffling of hooves to square his stance under Spock's weight. The horse's sides heaved, forcing Spock's hips wider as Hornet sucked in a large breath then let out a gust of air in a sigh.

"How's it feel, Spock?" Jim asked after a moment. Spock chanced a glance down at the young man, bending his neck and shutting his eye momentarily to accommodate for the sight of the ground so far below him.

"Tall."

* * *

**A/N: Oh my goodness that took forever. Sorry for the delay again. Anyway, yeah, Jim is taking a kind of pseudo Native approach to teaching how to ride and once he's got Spock confident and comfortable he'll pull out all the stops. **

**And yeah, if you've never been on a horse or mounted bareback before there is such a thing called 'first mount trauma'. If you can stay calm you get over it as soon as you look around but for some people it's a deal breaker all together. I get 'first mount trauma' whenever I get up on a horse for the first time (never ridden that animal before) and every now and again I get it with my gelding Voodoo. But typically if you ride often you don't get hit with it. It fades with familiarity. **

**Lakota Translation:**

**Wagi – Shadow**

**Situpsa - Wags Tail**

**Woyuske – Absolution**

**Misu – Younger Brother**

**Waj'ka - Thunderbird**

**I'm hoping that the next chapter will come sooner than this one did but there ARE NO PROMISES!**

**PS: Carrot and apple treats to the amigo that picks out the three little shout outs to SUPERNATURAL that I slipped in there (hint: They're all from the fourth season!)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry this took so long, everyone. I swear I was working on it the whole since the last chapter but I got hung up working on a fic for an LJ community crossover exchange. I did a STXI/SPN fic that's I'll post the first of four parts along with this chapter today. (It's finished and by January it'll be up so go check it out and let me know what you think). Anyway, excuses excuses lets get to the stuff you guys care about!**

**Onward to Six!**

* * *

**Pre-Spirk/Spirk: Blackbird had lifted his head; ears pricked and was looking dead at him. Dark brown eyes boring into his own. The rush of warm and moist breath was a long pull and slow push.**

* * *

**Lost Horse Creek, Montana**

"**When you are lonely, let me be your companion. When you are tired, let me carry the load. When you need to learn, let me teach you… after all, I am your horse."**

**-Unknown**

* * *

**Chapter Six: Breathe**

"**And so faith is closing your eyes and following the breath of your soul down to the bottom of life, where existence and nonexistence have merged into irrelevance. All that matters it the little part you play in this vast drama…"**

**-Unknown**

* * *

_**Native Sky Ranch**_

_**124 Flathead Road,**_

_**Lost Horse Creek, Bitterroot Mountain Range, Rocky Mountains, Ravalli County, Montana**_

_**Stardate: 2260**_

_**September 20**_

_**1734 Hours**_

**...**

It was more bizarre with movement.

The muscles and bones, sinew and tendon, rolled and churned and rubbing intimately against his legs and groin, rolling his hips against his will. The sway of spine and ribs, the hum of lungs only separated from the hybrid by bone and flesh and a layer of jean and thermal fabric. It was distracting and alien and strange to be moving without his own locomotion.

But it was the heart that was the strangest.

The heart was a bass drum, pure, humming muscle that was almost ten pounds in weight, thundering in the chest, loud enough to drown out his own heartbeat. Each beat was a step, a hoof sinking into the loose earth as another rose to balance the bulk of a creature that by all medical means and physics was an impossibility.

The heart was a tempo, a rolling strike of thunder, a beat that bore up the horse and bore up the rider. It was a tempo that conducted life and living.

This tempo, the drum of a horse's massive heart, was the beat that Jim and Cody lived by, followed effortlessly and knew no other way of living.

Spock knew this, not from experience or observation or the fact that Jim seemed to tell him so.

He knew this because as Hornet walked as a near lazy pace Jim's footsteps were in perfect time with the dun horse. If he listened hard enough Spock could speculate that the young captain's heart beat would be in sync as well.

Spock had graduated already in this first lesson, the first, delicate tendrils of confidence taking hold when his gloved hands slid from their place on Hornet's withers to settle into the crease of his hip; thumbs hooked back and palms flush to his thighs. Balanced upright, straddled across the dun horse's back.

He rocked, feeling his back and shoulders twist, each muscle contracting and relaxing in rhythm and series that was foreign to his body, trying to keep his posture straight and eyes forward, looking over Hornet's ears and softly bobbing head.

It was difficult, all the hybrid wanted to do was watch Jim. The young captain walking in perfect step with them on the ground. The man was nearly silent, the first few minutes coaxing and soothing Spock. assuring him with his presence that the hybrid was secure. Gently talking him into the slow, easy going walk that was carrying them in a circuit around the indoor arena at the moment.

But he'd gone quiet when Spock's hands had slid to his hips and settled there. Jim fell into companionable silence, flanking them and only speaking to give Spock a few soft spoken instructions. To squeeze his knees and thighs, putting pressure on one side or the other, rolling his weight and twisting his spine cued the horse to step to the left or right, to side step, pull up to a full stop or start forward in a steady walk.

There were no words, barely the hum of his throat to ask something of the animal to carry out. Flesh was speaking to flesh, bone to bone and heart to heart.

The horse was as aware of his body and actions as he was Hornet's.

"The dun horse has good medicine, you know."

Spock tilted his head to just look at Jim out of the corner of his eye. Jim looked calm and relaxed. The hum of that silent, ancient language curling and pooling on the surface of his skin. His eyes were pools of silver, only the barest flecks of cerulean in the color.

Tiberius.

It was an inaccurate diagnosis, Spock knew that much, Jim did not suffer the mental defect that split his consciousness into different people. The shift and change of mind and temperament in situation did not multiple personalities make.

But there was significant difference between Kirk, the proud and cockily confident captain of the Enterprise, Jim, the quiet and personal man that read antique books and studied horse anatomy and this creature. Tiberius.

Tiberius was old... ancient. The lines of him was wrought of steel and stone, every inch carved and embossed with tribal symbols and silent, foreign words. He was all predator, all prey, all instinct. But without the cruelty and savagery that went with such a primitive being.

"To the Pawnee." Jim continued. "A Plains Tribe... I knew a Pawnee once, Wolf Clan, he died few years ago. Most of the tribe's gone. He was probably one of the last... Anyway he told me the story, told me why... that a boy once caught a dun mustang and the pony spoke to him, told the boy he could be great if he did what the pony said. The dun horse told the boy to turn the horse loose in a river valley, and leave him there for five nights and he'd be rewarded in wealth. When the boy went to take the dun horse back be found the valley full of ponies to take as his own. When his clan went into battle the dun horse told him to ride out five times alone and strike the enemy chief with a stick and he would not be harmed. The boy rode out five times and five times struck the enemy chief until he fell from his horse and not an arrow or knife touched him. Then the dun horse told the boy to take a bow and arrow and hunt out the spotted buffalo and he would win the chief's daughter. The boy rode out and the dun horse found and killed the spotted buffalo and took his hide to the chief and was given the girl in marriage. One night the boy woke to the dun horse pacing restlessly and the horse asked the boy to free him, the boy did not hesitate and the pony vanished into the dust and brush. Because of his faithfulness to the dun horse's words the Pawnee were blessed whenever a dun horse was in their herd."

Spock refrained from speaking and tensed slightly when Jim suddenly stepped away from him and Hornet.

The yellow dun horse under him felt and sensed the tension and went still lifting his head and pinning his ears with a worried snort.

"Easy." Spock startled himself a little bit at the reassurance he gave to the horse. He blinked and raised an eyebrow at his own actions but it didn't stop the hybrid from trying to relax and calm himself. He twisted his neck to try and keep Jim in his sight and it was becoming increasingly difficult as Jim moved around behind him and Hornet.

Spock tried to repress a sigh before making a jump of confidence and gently pressed his left knee and thigh into the dun's side and shoulder. When the dun smoothly made a horizontal step sideways Spock cut off the command and adjusted the cue, this time swinging his right leg back slightly to put pressure against the gelding's flank and barrel at the same time as his shoulder. Spock twisted his head and neck, leading his body weight.

"Step around." The hybrid asked politely, increasing the pressure of his legs slightly. Hornet snorted softly, dropped his head and swung around on his heels. Spinning in place a full one hundred and eighty degrees so Spock could look behind him and watch Jim.

The hybrid felt and started to bury a small spark of pride when he remembered what Jim had told him, was teaching him and felt Hornet start to tense and shift under him again. Remembered something that he was learning on his own.

Hornet understood him, not in a personal way, not as an individual, but in an intimate way that could have made the Vulcan half-breed flush green at the delicate swept points of his ears. The horse could read him, sense everything about him. The animal, a creature he'd believed for decades to be non-sentient, was aware of his buried emotions, of his pains and accomplishments. Hornet, without flesh to flesh contact, without touching Spock's mind, without making a true effort beyond natural intuition, Hornet knew his _soul_.

Knew, felt, _understood_ him.

And this was a creature that had no emotional attachment to him, could care less if Spock straddled his spine. This was Jim's horse, Jim was the one that made the animal nicker happily, Jim was the one Hornet sought solstice in, sought protection in. And Spock felt a kind of... pain at that thought, he was unsure if it was directed at the horse or at Jim. It was illogical but it twinged and ached.

Hornet shifted unhappily under him and nickered softly in protest, just hammering Spock's point and theory home.

The hybrid calmed himself and carefully pushed aside his Vulcan heritage and training, letting a thin wash of emotion bubble into the hollow of his chest and float there, carefully hidden and carefully restrained to not fly out of control and he twisted it, shaping it purposefully passed the ache to the flush of pride and camaraderie he'd felt when Hornet had followed both his mistaken and corrected cue.

The horse seemed to hum and settle quietly, breathing out a sigh of relief.

"Now you're starting to get it."

Jim's voice was hitched slightly, corrupted as he vaulted effortlessly onto Yellow Wolf's bare back, sliding into place at the horse's shoulder. The stud gave a slight nicker. It seemed, without Jim moving at all the buckskin paint broke into a lope, skidding to a halt right alongside Hornet and Spock, their knees brushing, the two horse's swishing tails across each other's noses contentedly.

"My confidence in the matter of riding a horse will grow with experience and exposure to the practice. I speculate that with a high level of exposure over a short period of time riding will no longer seem an unnatural behavior to me."

"Like a cow to cud." Jim rumbled, settling his hands at the crease of his hips, mimicking Spock's posture.

Spock's eyebrow quirked. "Indeed... like... like a cow to cud."

Jim's lips quirked and the silver in his eyes faded slightly to make more room for cerulean. "Better stick to the more 'refined' metaphors, Spock."

Spock nodded and looked out into the arena, he blinked. "M... Cody has departed."

Jim twisted in his place on Yellow Wolf and looked over his shoulder. He hummed quietly. "You're right... we've only been at it for-" He twisted his wrist to look at a simple watch strapped there. "-an hour. You want to quit?"

"Jim, I am only just beginning to become... comfortable with the lesson and expectations. Ending it now would be done prematurely." Spock lifted his chin slightly and beneath him Hornet seemed to relax, Spock felt his weight tilt and spine twitch as the yellow dun's hip dipped to set a rear hoof on a turnback.

"Then do you want to stay here in the arena?"

"You wish to find Cody?" The hybrid felt himself breathe out when the name came easily for the first time.

"Yeah. I mean she doesn't need a babysitter and if she wanted help she would have asked-"

"You are concerned for her welfare." Spock felt a small nip of that painful ache rise back into his chest. The same ache he'd felt towards Hornet and Jim, now it was directed at the petite rancher.

Jim shrugged a shoulder. "She's my sister."

"Not biologically." Spock retorted but he felt some of the ache drain out of his chest.

"No, But she's still my sister. Like Bones and you, Yellow Wolf and Nemo A534, you guys are my brothers."

Spock felt every organ in his body go still. "A brother?"

"Yeah." Jim nodded slightly. "'Cause you're more than a best friend and if I ever get pissed at you, you know I'll still care 'cause you can't choose family and they're supposed to make you miserable. That's why they're family. It's what makes 'em family. They make you miserable and you love 'em anyway."

Spock's head cocked, mind spinning it confusion and every contradiction that the young captain had spun together at once. But one thing kept a lingering ache in his chest.

"I did not intend to cause disruption in your life."

"Spock." Jim sighed, snorting tightly. "Quit. You think it's all sunshine and daisies with Cody? Half the time she's smacking me in the back of the head. And Bones lectures me for bleeding. _'The wind that has the power to make storms also has the power to calm them'_. Get it?"

Spock pondered the blonde's words for a moment before nodding and licking his dry and cracking lips, "You mentioned the fact that one cannot choose family and yet you claim to have chosen yours."

Jim lifted an eyebrow, the blue in his eyes fading slightly for silver to flow more freely in place. "Figures you wouldn't believe in things like Fate."

Spock's brow knitted together when Jim cleared his throat.

"Do you want to stay here and I'll just run and find her. It'll only take me a second-"

"Would it not be easier if I accompanied you?"

Jim shrugged and seeming without cueing the horse, Yellow Wolf side stepped and swung around on his heels, taking off a sharp trot, head up and ears perked forward, towards the linking exit between the arena, the trophy tack room and the stable barn.

Hornet tensed as if to follow but waited patiently for Spock's command, the hybrid complied, squeezing his knees and thighs into the yellow dun's shoulder and gut. Hornet dropped into the slow and easy walk they'd been using; Jim and Yellow Wolf were quickly leaving them behind.

Spock repeated the squeeze around the gut, flexing his muscles and hoping that the cue wouldn't change only increase the strength of the first, they hadn't gotten this far in their lesson.

Hornet lurched forward and Spock pitched, wrapping his hands tightly in the gelding's mane for support as the yellow dun broke into a quick trot. It was a moment before Spock got used to the new pace of movement, the acceleration and new power as muscles collected and sprung under the slim layer of fat, flesh and fur.

Under him Hornet trotted as quickly as he dared and nickered loudly, calling for Yellow Wolf to slow down or wait for him. The stud paint flicked his ears back but didn't break his pace, not until Jim gave him an invisible cue to slow and allow the dun to catch up.

Spock actually felt the gelding huff in relief, the horse's ribs hitching once mid stride as the dun trotted the distance closed and started to slow. Instinctively Spock sat up and leaned his weight back and Hornet checked his pace almost harshly, dropping into a walk and crowding at Yellow Wolf's heels. The good natured stud didn't pin his ears at the press of space and walked on quietly.

The overo buckskin dropped his head and stepped out of the soft, shifting dirt and onto the hardwood of the tack and trophy room. The thud of hooves echoed loudly, doubling as Hornet followed and the two horses crossed the room and stepped down into the stable aisle. Spock's attention snapped to the side at a dark movement.

Wagi pushed herself up to her paws and shook herself once before trotting at their flanks. The dark Shepherd eyed Spock with what could only be considered a canine version of a sneer.

"Wagi, _Iyeye_ Cody." Jim rumbled in Lakota.

The dog gave a sharp, single bark that echoed in the stable barn before breaking into a lope a head of them. The two horses and Starfleet officers follow at a more sedate pace, hooves thudding softly on the Earth, switching tails and pricking ears. The two horses pressed close and as Spock sat up and tried to get back to the hypersensitive and relaxed place between himself and Hornet the hybrid felt the rub and brush of Jim's knee and calf against his. When they broke from under the shadow of the stable barn and onto the sunlit lawn and the bitter cold that went with it Spock shivered once as he scanned the area around them, looking for signs of the deaf rancher or the mustang she'd been working. Waiting impatiently in the yard was Wagi.

The dark Shepherd woofed and broke into a jog across the lawn towards the corner of the house, ducking under the juniper tree and plank seat rope swing. Spock twitched unhappily at the sight of the toy, swinging and creaking in non-existent wind.

Hornet balked and nickered warily, actually skipping backwards a few steps, feeding off Spock's unease the gelding pinned his ears and rolled his eyes looking for some kind of predator.

Spock's balance pitched and he started to topple to the earth when a solid hand wrapped around his fore arm and tugged him back into place. Spock instinctively twisted his arm and gripped the other tightly, enough to hear a soft hiss of pain and forced him to relax his grip.

"Easy, Spock. What's the matter?" Jim asked.

The Vulcan hybrid tried to settle himself and relax and the yellow dun paint shifted unhappily under him. His eyes flicked from Jim back to the slowly swaying swing, the unease and nervousness in his stomach grew, refusing to subside and gnawing at him.

"Spock?" Jim asked sharply.

Hornet was starting to panic; the gelding skipped another step back, colliding with Yellow Wolf and hunching his rear quarters under him.

"Alright. Get down." The blonde man commanded sharply. "Slide off."

The yellow dun jerked sharply, trying to decide wither to follow instinct and get away or years of training and stay and try and reassure the greenhorn rider perched across his spine.

Jim gently tugged at Spock's forearm, to coax him down him the horse. Feeling himself move involuntarily the hybrid reacted, gripping Jim tighter and scrambling to reseat himself on the horse instead of breaking off cleanly. His legs jostled against the gelding and it was too much for Hornet.

The yellow dun paint's head jerked up, ears pinned and snorted in discomfort bordering fear.

Jim reacted in a blur, jerking his arm free of Spock's grip before snaking it roughly under Spock's arms and around his chest. The grip closed like a steel bar and the hybrid felt his ribs bend in protest, the air slipping from his lungs as Kirk yanked Spock back, crushing him into Jim's flank and effectively pulling him out of danger when Hornet gave a small, self-surviving jump away.

The horse nickered unhappily and stood nervously a few feet from them and left Spock literally hanging from Jim's arm. The hybrid scrabbled, trying to find a grip on the iron muscle across his ribs or the mane of the paint buckskin stallion.

Yellow Wolf, the steady old stud he was, had a fair share of runs as a pick-up horse, he knew what was expected and what needed to happen under the added, struggling weight of the stranger. The large horse locked his legs and muscles, grounding himself steady and low, bracing for the force of a mountain wind storm.

Astride him Jim did something similar, falling back on the old duties of yanking youths and seasoned cowboys off of bucking horses or jack-knifed bulls. Pulling the souls out of the way and to the safety of his saddle and embrace. Like any veteran of the ring Jim took pick-up man position duties seriously, gracefully and without complaint, as good rodeo manners pounded into him had entailed. It was the least he could do to thank the blur of nameless faces and horses that risked their lives to save him countless times when he'd been the one under the spotlight and eight second clock.

But, unlike those grateful and relieved cowboys, Spock didn't understand or know this and for a split second his entire body raged against the feeling of being trapped and suspended, throwing a series of small jerks, muscle spams and even a small kick.

It was nothing to Jim and Yellow Wolf, they were used to taking the struggling weight at a gallop, used to getting elbowed and jostled, kicked and scratched in those first moments of panic before relief settled in.

But for the young hybrid it was monumental. The most physical fit he'd thrown since his childhood. His heart fluttered nervously in his abdomen, muscles cording but disorganized enough they couldn't do serious damage to his captor. He stilled when fingers dug into the flesh and bone of his ribs, Jim squeezing the lean muscle not to command docility but reassuring, grounding and soothing.

Spock went nearly limp, gripping the bar of an arm across his chest and thick fabric of Jim's jeans awkwardly. A suspended, unsure moment hung in the air.

"Breathe."

Spock sucked in bitterly cold air at the command, it bit at his lungs and the underside of his ribs but it calmed him. Spock's grip slackened slightly, the muscles of his leg giving a slight and feeble jerk, like an after thought of the fight before.

He felt his balance tip slightly a moment later, Jim bent and eased Spock down onto his boots and the earth. His knees almost gave out before he locked his legs and stood on his own two feet. The arm across his chest hesitated before sliding away, ducking under his arm pit but sliding up over his shoulder and collar bone to settle on his sternum. It was calming, if not a little invasive, and when the slight pressure coaxed Spock to move he stepped back obediently until he felt the solid curve of Jim's knee tuck in between his shoulder blades and the ridge of his shin was aligned with Spock's spine.

The hand pinned him firmly in place, keeping him still.

"Breathe. Calm down." Jim commanded, his voice a low, soothing hum above his head. "Slow you're heart down; I can feel it in your throat."

Spock swallowed heavily, aware of the firm muscle of Jim's forearm pressed into the side of his neck, the buzz of the blonde mind separated only by the layers of fabric at his collar. It was that fact that Spock realized Jim was going to a length to prevent flesh to flesh contact, sparing the hybrid any more strain in an already stressful situation. Spock carefully shut his eyes and breathed in the icy air again and focused on his hammering heart. The muscle slowed, not nearly as close to the human rate but more towards normal for himself. He took another calming, cold breath, feeling the weight of Jim's hand on his chest and felt the flurry of emotion settling back into normal restraints and clearing away quietly.

"I apolog-"

"Stop." Jim commanded, pressing down with his hand and digging his knee between his shoulders. "Just stop,"

The hybrid's jaw snapped shut, teeth locking together. Another moment crawled by and the pressure on his chest didn't lighten.

"Don't apologize but tell me what happened. Why did you lose it?" Jim asked quietly.

"I..." Spock trailed off, a little surprised at his own hanging statement before he collected himself. His dark eyes dragging to the plank seat swing. "I am unsure the reason, but due to my enhanced telepathic abilities and empathic traits, I am sure, I experience an unease in the vicinity of that object."

He felt and heard more than saw Jim shift slightly, following his eye line to the plaything, the swing swayed and twisted innocently from its branch.

Spock's stomach churned slightly when Jim tensed and Yellow Wolf responded in kind, shifting slightly on his hooves.

"You saying you get a bad feeling 'round the swing?"

Spock twitched at the word 'feeling'. "Essentially. I experienced a similar reaction earlier this morning."

The lingering silence was almost bitter.

"Oh..." Jim muttered at length, the hand planted on Spock's sternum faltered and slackened, almost lifelessly sliding away. Spock stepped away and twisted, tilting his head back to look at Jim's face.

The young blonde's eyes were glassy and dull, far away from Spock and Yellow Wolf and Native Sky, Spock lifted an eye brow as it seemed the color had drained a little from his cold flushed features. The new, ashen pallor was unpleasant and startling.

"Jim?"

The blonde flinched.

Flinched.

He shut his eyes and took a long, deep breath before speaking quietly. "Spock, let's take Hornet back into the barn. I'll have you mount up and do a circle then we'll call it."

Spock's eyebrows rose towards his hairline, head cocking to the side.

"Jim? I do not understand the purpose of this course of action."

"You got to get back up. When you fall _always_ get back on as soon as possible. Technically you didn't fall but it wasn't exactly a gossamer dismount. You need to get back up, do something simple then get back down."

"May I ask the reason?" Spock prodded before giving the swing a wide birth and moved around to catch Hornet, looping his fingers over a strap in the halter and winding the lead rope around his wrist. The horse stalled, balking until Spock took a deep breath and allowed it to flow out, unclenching his chest and throat as it went. The yellow dun paint relaxed slightly and allowed Spock to lead him back towards Jim and the buckskin overo.

"So the fear and nerves don't set in." Jim sat up a little straighter and Yellow Wolf dropped his head and skipped backwards several steps at the unseen cue before stopping and standing straight and more relaxed again. Spock and Hornet followed, pacing away from the oppressive aura of the toy. A head of them Jim and Yellow Wolf took a step backwards for each of theirs forward.

"Fear and nerves?" Spock inquired. "I can assure you that such an experience would not occur-"

"Happens to all of us, Spock. Every single one of us. Get thrown or fall and if you don't get right back on it can screw you up psychologically. You're confidence gets shot, lose your nerve, then you have to work back up, if you can, and maybe you get the shakes, maybe you're gut bottoms out and you're terrified and no matter how much you muster and how much of your soul you pour into it sometimes it's just not enough... then it's over."

Spock pondered the sorrow and loneliness in the blonde's eyes.

"You speak from experience."

Yellow Wolf stalled and went still under Jim. The young man cast his eyes up towards the cloud draped mountain peaks. He sighed audibly.

"There was this one horse... I was fifteen... he put me in the ground over and over and over again. It never mattered, just catch my breath and get back up on him and go at it again." Jim shifted and Yellow Wolf nickered and shook his head slightly. "But this one time, he didn't lose it any worse than normal but the way I fell... hit my head... really bad. Couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't stand. Hell, I threw up ... lied there on my back in the grass for forty five minutes just... gasping. The horse knew something was wrong, he came and stood over me, tried to protect me but for the first time in my life... I couldn't physically get back on the horse. I was laid up for two weeks couldn't even walk. When I felt like I was alright I went out and got back up on him but... God I was terrified and he knew it, tried to get me off, rubbed me against a fence and tree limbs trying to get rid of me. It was... so hard working with him in the saddle after that."

Spock watched Jim's face for a long moment before speaking. "It was not your fault that caused the accident."

"Doesn't matter whose fault it was Spock, doesn't even matter that the only reason I couldn't get back on what because I _couldn't_. All that mattered was what was going on in my head." Jim fixed his eyes on Spock. There was an ache and a bitterness deep in the silver and cerulean of his eyes.

He took a deep breath before threading his fingers into Yellow wolf's dark mane.

"That's why you have to get back on."

Spock narrowed his eyes slightly, before dipping his head. "I understand."

The hybrid tossed the lead rope over Hornet's shoulder before setting his hands on the dun's withers and rump. Hornet braced with a nicker and stood steady as Spock awkwardly vaulted up, struggling a little to get into place but managing to straddle the gelding's shoulder.

Spock was a little startled to feel a slight curl of unsurity in his gut, humming at him that something could go wrong. He could be hurt.

Killed.

But Hornet stood steadily under him, rock solid. The drum of the heart under his legs was the same as it had been in the arena. The ears swayed the same way, spine arching under his weight. Nothing was changed.

He'd been warned, not moments before, but it was still a shock to feel unsettled.

Spock took a breath and shifted, moving until his crotch was pressed against the ridge of shoulder bone and his legs pressing slightly into ribs, feeling the faint flutter of lungs working, until he was more comfortable, then sat up and settled hands in the crease of his hips. He felt none of the small confidence and assurance he'd built earlier but the unhappy roll in his stomach settled slightly.

And though it was unpleasant to feel, disquieting even, to feel the flux of emotion but Spock allowed it to flow through him. Allowed it to well into the hollow of his chest and make the skin of his hands itch slightly.

Below him, at the honesty of discomfort, Hornet relaxed and softened, pliant to his touch and cue.

Spock looked up at Jim.

The blonde blinked before his lips quirked slightly. "That... was the _ugliest_ mount I have ever seen. We're going to have to work on that."

Spock dipped his head in acceptance and felt the roll of discomfort unknot and nearly dissipate all together.

A sharp bark broke across the yard, making the two riders turn.

"Oh. Wagi. _Ektu je_." Jim gave a slight wave of his hand.

The dark German Shepherd pinned her ears and narrowed her eyes as Spock, clearly convinced it was his fault before turning and stalking back out of sight with her chance at pleasing Jim stripped from her.

"Man... she hates you."

"I do not understand what has prompted such dislike."

"You didn't do anything Spock. Shepherds are just really protective, people oriented, you know? I told you, remember? It's really hard to make friends with someone else's Shepherd." Jim assured quietly and deftly slid off Yellow Wolf's back and to the earth.

"I have had no problems with Nemo A534 and Canteska."

"Well, Canteska is old, he could muster if he needed too but mainly he'd just let it flow. And Nemo A534 was trained to be sociable and accepting. Wagi is pretty much the average behavior you'd get out of a Shepherd in this kind of situation." Jim moved and lighted his hand on Spock's knee. "Turn a circle."

Spock responded. Pressing his left calf, thigh and knee into the muscle and bone under him.

Hornet huffed quietly and sidestepped, tucking his read end under him and spun in a circle and coming to a stop with a sigh that stretched Spock's pelvis almost uncomfortably.

"Other way." Jim commanded gently.

Spock switched the weight of the pressure and Hornet responded smoothly to the cue.

"Good. Jump down. Just like you saw me do it." Jim stepped back as Spock hesitated before swinging his leg back over and sidling down to the earth. His boots hit with a jarring impact that made him stumble slightly before regaining his balance.

"Great job Spock." Jim assured and lighted a hand on the hybrid's shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze before letting it fall. "We'll put you back on tomorrow and see how it goes then, too. Also get you into the routine of grooming before and after. Hornet's not worked that hard so we can just stall 'em and grain 'em and that'll do."

Spock nodded and wrapped the lead rope around his wrist and looped fingers through the halters chin ring, giving a gentle tug that the horse followed quietly as Jim and Yellow Wolf led the way to the stable barn. The air warmed significantly and Spock felt some of his muscles relax instinctively with the new heat. He followed on Jim's heels, mimicking everything as he unbuckled the yellow halter and let the dun horse step into the stall marked with his name and another that read _Opoya._

With little instruction Spock dumped a scoop of Ten Percent Sweet Feed into a mounted bowl for the dun. Hornet snorted and dug his face into the grain, lipping and crunching happily. Spock hesitated before tugging off one of the leather gloves, working his hand in relief of the confining and unpleasant material before carefully reacting out and passing his palm across Hornet's rounded cheek.

The dun's mind lapped against his, just briefly.

It was calmer than Time Machine's mind as been. More steady, more ancient and experienced. It hummed quietly and for a split second it became aware of the intrusion, and whispered back, brushing against Spock in return, before the connection gave way as Spock pulled his hand back and worked his fingers, feeling the residual hum of another life force still on his skin.

He shut the stall and slid the lock into place before falling into step along side Jim. They paced evenly, strides matching and boots shuffling in the dirt.

"There is a reason, which I am not privy to, that you understand my unease being near the swing."

Jim dripped his eyes to his boots as he walked and made only the softest hum in his throat. Like the very beginning of a grunt or word but it died there.

"It is not something spoken of." Spock concluded.

"Something like that... you can ask Cody if you want... but it's not my story to tell." Jim's voice sounded strange to Spock and it took a moment to realize it was lacking in emotion. A quiet deadpan that was meant for a Vulcan elder, not the vibrant creature pacing at his side.

It unsettled the young hybrid. "I did not mean to cause–"

"You can't help it. Ask Cody if you want to know." Jim deflected again then made a bitter noise. "She'll probably send you back to me anyway."

"If this is the case I will not ask it of you. It causes you distress." Spock affirmed quickly.

Jim hunched his shoulders in a shrug digging his hands into the pockets of his jeans and led the rest of the way across the yard to the ranch home in silence. He pulled the door open and allowed Spock to slip ahead of him before following. Nemo A534 and Situpsa pushed up onto their paws and clicked across the terra cotta flooring to greet them. Jim lightly dropped his hand onto their heads, scratching ears.

The black and tan Shepherd pushed gently passed Jim to get to Spock, laying the side of his face into the hybrid's hand. Spock felt another flutter of the dog's mind, almost familiar to him now and scratched his fingers into Nemo A534's cheek and jaw.

The dog's jaws opened in content, tongue lolling out and sliding across Spock's inner wrist affectionately before dropping away.

Jim moved to the doorway between the kitchen and the den. "Canteska!" He called into the house then dropped his head and tilted it to listen. Spock stayed still, knowing that any movement or noise he made would distort what Jim was looking and waiting for, the young hybrid in turn listened intently.

"Canteska!" Jim called again and gave a sharp whistle.

There was a scramble out of sight and clatter of clicking hooves on hardwood and the slim form of the albino fawn leapt off the couch and skittered across the room to stand next to Jim, looking up at the young captain with ears pricked and head cocked. The creature bleated softly until the blonde laid an assuring hand on the fawn's head and fingered the animal's ears.

Jim gave a final last whistle and waited, silence met his call. Jim made that small humming sound in his throat and moved across the den in several strides. Spock moved to take his place in the kitchen entrance to keep Jim in sight. The blonde looked out the front window.

"Trucks are all still out there." He muttered and twitched a shoulder unhappily.

"Do you believe that Cody has left the ranch?" Spock cocked his head to the side.

"Maybe… more likely she's gone up into the mountains or something… I really hope it wasn't on that roan. He's unstable." Jim muttered and ducked passed Spock and into the mud room, pulling one of the set of communicators off a shelf and clicked it on, his fingers flitted across the screen, changing the frequency to channel two and quickly typed out a message before sending it.

"Normal comms don't work for her."Jim muttered, slipping into a pattern that had emerged in the last few days, explaining to Spock the little details that went into functioning properly with Cody's disability. "I really hope she hasn't caught a case or something. I don't think so because if it was she would have warned me or something or I would have heard Jethro come up the drive…"

"A case?" Spock cocked his head and moved to look over Jim's shoulder at the screen of the small communication's unit.

"Sometimes, when people go missing in the area the Sheriff or the police ask Cody to give 'em a hand."

"How is it that she would be useful in such a situation? She has no sense of hearing, would this not be more of a hindrance?" Following on Jim's heels as the blonde agitatedly set the communications unit onto the counter to wait for reply and busied himself filling a kettle with water and setting it to boil.

"She's a Hell of a tracker, Spock. Only an Apache could track better than her. She's can scent a week old trail, especially up here in the mountains. No matter what the grounds like, wash out, snow, mudslide whatever Cody can track in it. It's the only way she could get to help any of the departments without hearing."

"The departments meaning local law enforcement." Spock concluded with a nod from the blonde. "She had a desire to do this?"

"The whole family is in the business of saving lives. Since World War Two or something and a couple of cousins were code breakers for the Allies. Everyone's police or fire or some enforcement or justice positions… except for Creek but he's weird so he doesn't count and Cody who can only play Bloodhound when they want her. And they've all be Marines, all of 'em… except for me and Cody."

There was a bitterness deep in Jim's voice.

"The reasoning for your-"

"I couldn't cut it medically." The blonde bit out harshly, "All the allergies and stupid stuff like that."

"…It seems that your friendship with Cody is founded on co-experienced exclusion." Spock said hesitantly and internally regretted the statement when Jim flinched slightly.

"It's depressing when you say it like that." The blonde muttered and quickly lifted the communications unit to look for some kind of response. "Sis. Where are you?"

Jim tossed the object down and buried his face in his hands.

"Perhaps your worry is out of line."

Jim growled and ground the heels of his palms into his eyes.

"Cody seems quite capable of handling herself in numerous kinds of situations. By my observations of her behavior and data collected from what you have told me there is a less than fifteen percent chance that Cody is injured or in immediate danger."

Jim peaked at him through fingers.

"You suck at comforting someone Spock."

The hybrid lifted an eyebrow into his hair line.

"But you're right." Jim side and braced his hands on the edge of the counter top and leaned back against it. "And it's pretty typical that she'd drop off the face of the earth without telling anybody. Don't know why I get worked up, she disappears all the time. That's what she does-"

"Jim. You are beginning to sound slightly hysterical." Spock moved closer, a little unsure of the volatile emotion pouring off the blonde and poisoning the air.

The young man growled softly, his lips twitching enough that it was unsettling, as if he wanted to bare his teeth at Spock before taking a breath and letting his head drop back to expose the long line of his throat. His Adam's apple bobbed slightly before he shook his head tiredly and shut his eyes.

Spock felt himself work his jaw. A human thing to do in the tension of the situation and the experiment yielded nothing. Spock did not understand it's near constant and consistent use by the human race. Clenching and sliding his jaw did nothing to alleviate the tension he felt in his gut.

"While your actions are unusual… they are not unfounded." Spock straightened himself up and only felt the wire threading through him tighten slightly.

"It's…" Jim sighed and swallowed audibly, letting his head stay tilted back in an angle that looked nearly painful. "… Damnit I don't what it is. I've been gone so long and none of the brothers are around…"

"You feel a responsibility for her safety and happiness. Above and beyond the responsibility you would feel for a crew member or a citizen."

"… She's my sister, Spock. I told you."

"Not by blood." The hybrid flinched internally at the harshness of the statement. He wanted to take it back the instant it slipped from his lips.

"Good as. Sam ditched me when I was twelve." Jim sighed again, Spock watched his chest fill, ribs expand and stretch under the push of air.

There was a loud thud from below the floor. The Welsh Corgi and German Shepherd cocked their ears downward and tilted their heads, Spock mimicked the look himself.

"Damnit. The Workshop. I'm an idiot." Jim dashed out of the back door, letting the screen swing shut with a snap. Spock followed at a jog. Jim sprinted around the side of the house, the same corner that Wagi had been leading them around to a slightly raised structure flush against the stone and wood of the wraparound porch. It looked like a set of wooden doors sunk into the ground. There was a latch and a lock, open and hanging near the handles. Jim pulled them open, most of the agitation had bled out of him and left him looking exhausted as he waited and motioned Spock to start down a flight of stairs into a dimly lit room.

Spock stalled, waiting midway down until Jim followed and made the rest of the trip into the room in silence. The air was air but fresh, not damp or musty as Spock would have expected of a basement or root cellar. At least he supposed this space was one of these and followed Jim through the semi-darkness around a shelf pressed against the stairs and into the open room.

The floor was a similar terra cotta to the kitchen tiles, knitting together in smooth lines. The walls were the same warm, hewn woods as the house though it was lit artificially. The thick smell of leather and metal, the faint drift of chemicals and sweat lingered in the air. To his left a short hall let into a closed door. To the right pressed back towards the shelves sported some kind of gaming area. There was an assortment of instruments, several guitars of different styles and a drum set, on stands against one wall. A thick tawny sofa flush against another wall opposing an antique table of carved wood and a surface of wine colored felt. A few multicolored balls were left scattered on the top and a small rack mounted on the wall bore the weight of six long, lacquered sticks.

Spock searched his mind, trying to find a name of the assortment.

"It's a pool table." Jim muttered at his shoulder. "You know, billiards."

Spock nodded and followed on Jim heels around another slight corner and what looked like a small, granite topped bar, into a large brightly lit area.

There were several work benches and desks set up on three sides of the room, walls were mounted with racks and shelves that supported foreign tools and objects made of metal and wood. Bundles of leather strips and containers of metal discs and trinkets, several awkwardly folded heaps on a metal shelving unit looked like folded leather hides in different colors sat next to strange wood and metal shapes that looked like the base for something. There were metal bridle bits hanging on a wall next to long rolls that looked like bundled up reins.

There were larger tools settled on shelves below the work tables and smaller, clearly more used ones settled on the top among shapes of cut leather and half finished braids of sinew. There were several printed books and a few bound journals that the paper looked worn enough to be hand written. A large cork board was mounted on the wall and was packed with papers and photos and clippings from printed articles. Most of the loose papers looked like scribbled calculations and haphazard drawings of saddles.

Along the left wall were three, metal saddle stands and a short stack of unused ones. The three standing free were occupied by what looked like three large Western discipline saddles in transition of development. One of black leather looked near finished but plain compared to the detailed work of the saddles in the tack room.

The second was missing the chaps and skirt and any kind of decoration what-so-ever, the tawny leather patterned slightly with faint dark brown and black stripes in a brindled pattern.

The third and last was simply the frame, the fiberglass shape, like the ones on the shelf, sitting precariously on the stand with a haphazard drape of reddish leather across what must have been the seat.

At one of the tables, standing with one knee up on a rolling chair, Cody was deftly working over small collection of scattered papers, a pen in her hand hissing softly over the paper peering through small, wired framed glasses. Curled up on the floor Canteska was sleeping and twitching in dreams.

Jim leaned in the entrance, sighed quietly in relief, letting his head drop against the wood of the wall and. "Sometimes you just get the itch." Jim breathed and looked sideways at Spock. "Did I mention that Cody builds saddles?"

"No." Spock responded.

"If I ever do that weird freaking out thing because I can't find her remind me that she does."

"I will endeavor to do so." Spock assured with a dip of his head. Jim nodded and squeezed passed him to slip back towards the stairs and up into the fading sunlight. Spock hesitated for a moment, watching as Cody peered through her small glasses as she worked before following up and out, gently shutting the doors behind him; trailing in the blonde's wake back into the kitchen to an over boiling kettle and a cursing Jim, scrambling to right the wrong.

Spock moves to his aid and with a little work a large mug of tea and larger one of thick coffee cooling in their hands as they sat at the kitchen table in companionable silence. Situpsa and the albino fawn curled up on the large dog bed in the corner, dozing and snoring on occasion. Over the next hour as the cups drained the only noise was Jim musing aloud over the next meal and Nemo A534 shifting his position to move his head from Jim's knee to Spock's or back again.

Spock stroked the dog's ears, even growing bold enough to let his fingers linger on the scars of the Shepherd's skull and the delicate and dangerous scarring of his sealed closed eye socket. The quiet buzz of the dog's mind was comforting and familiar as well alien. When he touched the old wounds he felt the small flare of long dead pain and phantom memories from the accident that took half his sight.

Spock wondered what it would be like to fully meld minds with an animal, wondered if he could sooth away the memories from Nemo A534.

He looked up when the sound of the screen door swung open before the oaken one. It opened to a darkened outdoors and Cody stood back to let Canteska in then followed; she glanced up and waved casually at them. Completely unaware of the distress her disappearance had caused Jim. The young blonde smiled and made a few simple signs and Cody returned them as she stepped over to scrub her hands in the sink.

The white Shepherd, creaking with age stepped around them to lie in the middle of the floor and dropped his head on his paws with a grunt and sigh. Cody shook out her hands and turned to lean back against the sink and made a few signs.

"Will you help us bed down horses?" Jim asked, looking pointedly as the hybrid.

"What service I can render I will give it." Before Jim could turn Spock twisted in his seat, lifted his right hand in a fist and twitched it down once.

_Yes._

Cody's lip twitched up and she nodded in return and made a string of signs for them to read. Spock only recognized a few. 'Barn' and 'horse', 'hay' and 'grain' and 'water'.

"Okay." Jim muttered at the end of the string and Cody made a sharp gesture towards the door. Jim downed the rest of his coffee and pushed back his chair. Spock mimicked him and tugged on the coat and pulled it close so the corduroy rubbed his jaw line. Jim left his own on the back of his chair and led the way into the swiftly dipping temperature of the Montana mountains. Spock shivered and shifted into his jacket and broke into a jog on Jim's long lope, thankful for the friction and small rush of adrenaline as it warmed him slightly. They ducked into the heated air of the stable barn and Jim stomped his boots a little enthusiastically and made a noise suggesting feeling the cold as it set into the night.

"Stand back over there, Spock. Cody'll probably want you throwing hay, anyway. Just keep back for a little bit."

Spock stepped back until his shoulders and pelvis were pressed into the solid and sweet smelling grasses of the dried and baled hay stacked in a mountain on the far side of the barn. The wall of hay added another buffer of warmth at his back and Spock had the urge to turn and bury his face into the grasses and take deep breaths.

Jim jogged the length of the stable barn, unlocked and pushed open the massive double doors at the far end of the structure. The metal doors rattled and rumbled, sliding along their track until they stood half open about a dozen feet wide. Jim leaned out of the door and whistled at the top of his lungs. A single, long note, resonate and pure it rattled Spock's teeth and bones. Jim gasped a little at the end of it, as if it had taken all the breath in his lungs to make the noise before stepping back. Spock tensed after a moment when the sound of thunder echoed in the stable barn, growing louder in the confines of the structure.

Spock felt his heart hitch and twist as in the two stalls Yellow Wolf and Hornet nickered loudly and paced.

The thunder rolled and cracked as a wall of horseflesh swung around the corner and rushed into confines of the room. Moving bodies of mottled color contracted and expanded in a crush of life. Hooves connected with dirt and clipped each other, matching with the drum of hearts thundering almost as one. Nostrils blown wide and gasps and sucks of air creating a vacuum in the suddenly shrinking space. Spock felt the drum of his ears shiver and sensed a kind of displacement, felt his blood rushing into his heart and swelling in his veins. The horses swept passed him, some passing less than a foot away, the blur of rolling muscle under colored fur distorted his vision, the scent of animal sweat and earth branded itself in his nose. In his core the threads bound to his being hummed and pushed against him, surged up and whispered at him, roared at him, screamed at him to go, join the crush and vacuum, it bobbed in his throat, nearly strangled him.

A thousand ancient voices sung, joining the threads in his core, cry out and pulling at him, searing until the pleads became a near command that was almost painful to ignore.

_Run_

The threads hummed and strung tight for a moment before the hybrid felt a new whisper join them, twisting into a knotted braid, laying itself into his spine and tightening.

He watched the horses slow and the pull slackened off slightly, easing and allowing the hybrid to breathe as they separated out, moving by repetition and instinct to their stalls. They stepped lightly out of the aisle and into the deep, soft bedding, two to a stall. Spock recognized a few of the horses as they ducked into their own spaces. The animals all away save for two. A dark dapple grey mustang mare stood agitatedly outside of the stall housing Hornet. Closer to Spock was the stoic and still form of Cody's Boss Horse, as Jim had referred to him, the buckskin stud Blackbird, waiting to be let in with his half-brother Yellow Wolf.

"Let the Bird in there Spock. I'll get Opoya." Jim called as he slid the double doors closed and cutting out the cold air.

Spock took another moment to orient himself, breathing slowly to calm the desperate urge to take flight and run until his muscles burned. He buried it before carefully moving towards the horse that Cody and Jim both supposed wasn't really a horse but a mythological avian that had once ruled the Terran landscape compacted down into the shape of the buckskin stud.

Blackbird's dark eyes were half lidded and lazy. He breathed and blinked slowly, thick lips twitching slightly with each expansion of the ribs and lungs.

Spock stepped around the unnaturally still stud, feeling a hum of something powerful crackling across the pale gold fur. The hybrid slid back the lock and pushed the stall door open, turned to the side and went very still.

Blackbird had lifted his head; ears pricked and was looking dead at him. Dark brown eyes boring into his own. Time seemed to stall as the fluttered rhythm of his own heart slowed so much it could be considered dead but it matched the stud's. The rush of warm and moist breath was a long pull and slow push.

Blackbird shifted forward and seemed to grow in height, towering over the hybrid and lifted his head to look down at Spock, ears pinning slightly. The universe tunneled down to this single creature and the drum of its heart and suck if its breathing.

In his core the newly made braid shivered and hunched down, telling him to be still, be calm and stay.

The buckskin stud took in a deep draw of breath before stretching his neck slightly and breathed out directly into Spock's face, forcing him to blink at the wash of air and heat and _power_.

Spock remembered the blue roan mare on the long drive of Native Sky breathing in his face. Every observation of Cody and Jim as they met a horse they blew breath into the animal's nose and seemed to draw the exhale in return.

Spock blinked his eyes open slowly, drawing in the last puff of Blackbird's breath, catching the scent of ozone and electricity mixing with the horse sweat and sweet grass.

He slowly breathed out and was startled to hear the sound of Blackbird, muzzle still inches from his face, suck in, stealing Spock's exhale.

Blackbird drew in the hybrid's breath and lifted his head up and away. Spock felt as if a part of ihimself went with the air. A part of his soul was drawn away by the buckskin stud, never to come back to him.

Something seemed to flicker across the dark brown pools as Blackbird eyed him with pricked ears, nostrils wrinkling slightly. Spock felt himself shiver and twist in his skin under the scrutiny.

The dark eyes narrowed and over the ancient hum of wordless whispers something rose up.

_**I see you...**_

Blackbird snorted softly before turning away and stepping lightly into the stall next to the buckskin overo. Yellow Wolf and Blackbird touched noses and nickered at each other.

Spock jumped, physically jumped, when a hand settled on his collar bone, squeezing through the fabric reassuringly.

"Easy Spock." Jim whispered into his ear. "Just breathe. Quietly. Alright. I didn't think. I didn't know he'd do that. C'mon, inhale. Slowly."

Spock didn't move, just dropped his head and did as he'd been commanded, filling his lungs slowly. The cooled air felt like concrete sliding long his throat and rolling in his lungs. He nearly choked on it and shivered. His heart sped back to its normal pace and for the first time in his life Spock broke into a coughing fit.

"Breathe. It's okay." Jim commanded gently and gripped Spock's arm and pushed, easing the hybrid down until he was sitting in the dirt aisle, back pressed against the wood and metal of the stall door. Spock panted and shut his eyes, feeling the sting of salt and water at the edges of his lashes. Another tremor ran through him. He felt as if he was coming down from some kind of high, crashing back into the earth and cold after being aloft and left crushed into the stone and steel with tattered wings and scattered feathers.

He choked and coughed, the hitched breaths searing his throat and slowly started to drop off.

He jerked away, flinching when he felt a touch at his jaw. For a second there was nothing then the touch returned, light and careful and it spread, a palm sliding into place at the corner of his jaw, fingers threading around his delicately pointed ear and into the cropped ebony strands of his hair.

It didn't stroke or pat, didn't squeeze or put weight against his flesh. It was still, lying lightly against his skin.

Jim.

He knew. Jim touched his horses like this, laid his hand on them. The hybrid swallowed heavily before giving the barest tilt of his head and leaning into the touch. The nearly silent hum of Jim's mind brushed comfortingly against his, he felt his breathing even and slow, releasing the pressure on his core and chest enough for him to blink his eyes open, but the world was blurry and taken up by the flush of human skin, sun wheat hair and cerulean and silver eyes. Jim was squatted over him, leaning to press their foreheads together but reined in and left the distance open.

Spock's ears twitched at the sound of Jim's slightly rushed breath, the barest hum of a pant in them. Spock could read the thrum of the blonde's pulse was quickened just slightly.

"Come on Spock. Come back to me. _Oniya, mitawa tokahe. Oniya_. Breathe."

His words and voice sounded old and tired; the spoken language of the animals at his back. Spock sucked in another breath and let it out slowly, mingling with Jim's own.

"Waj'ka looked you in the eye." Jim reminded him gently. "You looked back."

"I don't... understand what's happened..." Spock rasped. He felt Jim's thumb twitch, brushing against his temple in a soothing way that made his eyes droop, suddenly exhausted.

"Waj'ka judged you. You've passed through the eye of the storm."

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**A/N: Well… this was an odd one. Think I was trying to make up for the lack of attention. Had everything in here, fear and anger and joy and spirituality and a handsy pair of Starfleet officers. I'll admit that I had a little too much fun writing the Blackbird/Waj'ka and Spock and Jim scene so I hope it's not too terribly unbelievable. How would you react looking an ancient force of the cosmos in the eye?**

**Anyway… for those of you who can't tell from reading this I am having trouble with my gelding Voodoo, a Paint abuse case that I'm re-gentling. That story Jim told about the horse when he was fifteen is basically the story that happened to me about a month ago (except for the fifteen years old and vomiting part it's pretty accurate). We've hit kind of a rough patch in our training and the cold and winter weather doesn't help much by stalling out lessons with him. The next time I get a minute and some good weather I'll get back on him and see where we're at. Just gotta restore the confidence in each other. I am going to be impossibly smug when he's all quieted down and working trails.**

**It's a little bit of a relief to write it though… you know what I mean.**

**Anyway, now it's time for you're chapterly Lakota Lesson! Yay!**

**Iyeye - Find**

**Ektu je - Forget it**

**Opoya - Shadow of Cloud**

**Oniya – Breathe**

**Mitawa Tokahe – My First (which you guys should know by now…)**

**Waj'ka – Thunderbird/Thunderbird Spirit**

**PS: ANATOMY TRIVIA! Without cheating or looking back in the chapter what is the average weight of a horse's heart? Christmas cookies shaped like ponies for those who remember.**

**Oh yeah that reminds me. Happy Holidays All from Native Sky Ranch! Bet ya'll wish it was a real place so you could go there!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Alright so this chapter features a 'conversation' between Cody and Spock. To make it easier to read Cody's signs/words look like _this_ and Spock's signs/words look like **_this_

**Hope that clear. Alright, moving on. **

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**Summary: Cody moved, drawing Spock's attention back to the deaf rancher, she eased down to squat next to the bed and be eye level with him, sitting back on her heels.**

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**Lost Horse Creek, Montana**

"**When you are lonely, let me be your companion. When you are tired, let me carry the load. When you need to learn, let me teach you… after all, I am your horse."**

**-Unknown**

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**Chapter Seven: Inwards and Outwards**

"**The longest journey is the journey inwards...****"**

**-Dag Hammarskjold**

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_**Native Sky Ranch**_

_**124 Flathead Road,**_

_**Lost Horse Creek, Bitterroot Mountain Range, Rocky Mountains, Ravalli County, Montana**_

_**Stardate: 2260**_

_**September 21**_

_**1825 Hours**_

**...**

When his eyes opened his vision was slightly blurred. A new and alien experience but Spock had become used to them by this time. He found every time he opened his eyes or turned a corner or stood to still for long he was struck with some kind of epiphany or shock.

He was becoming desensitized.

Spock tilted the side of his head away from the pillow and breathed in deeply, catching the scent of sweet hay still lingering on his clothing and hands. He hadn't been much help with bedding down the horses, most of the event had been a blur and mechanical movements of pulling apart square bales and dumping flakes of the hay at the hooves of the horses. Jim measuring out portions of grain and Cody doing the delicate work of administering medications and vitamins to some of the animals.

It was all somewhat unfocused in his memory. The scent was the strongest sensation he remembered but it might have only been due to the smell still lingering on his clothing.

Spock shifted, feeling confined and an unusually warm weight pressed against his stomach and draped over his hip. Spock hitched his shoulder and pushed upwards against the thick fabric of his confinement and relaxed slightly when it gave and lifted away easily.

He almost pulled it back as dim light and cool air assaulted the bare skin of his face and throat and hands. He steeled himself and pushed the now recognizable quilt of his borrowed bed further away. When he moved the warm coiled weight at his belly and hip shifted, Spock blinked to clear his vision and looked down at thick brown and black fur of Nemo A534. The dog was curled up against Spock's abdomen and thighs, the animal's head draped over his hip and side.

The dog's head tilted and one ear lifted towards him but Spock couldn't be sure the animal was truly awake. Looking down at the dog Spock was faced with the scarred and sealed eyeless socket and Nemo A534's breathing and position had not changed significantly. Spock looked down at the Shepherd for a few long seconds before letting his head fall back and buried the side of his face into his pillow and breathed out slowly, shutting his eyes and shivering slightly in the cooled air.

He breathed deeply and slowly, now catching the slightly musky and warm scent of the German Shepherd along with the drift of hay, curl of some cheap, floral laundry soap and his own lingering smell on the fabric. Spock loosely wrapped his arms around his own chest and suppressed the tremors trying to crop up as the outer layers of his clothing started to cool and stiffen. It was either early in the morning or near nightfall, if the dim flickers of golden light were anything to go on. He'd either slept for a few hours or an entire day, possibly more. It'd been dark when he last remembered anything clearly. Remembered the depth of Blackbird's dark eyes and the feral truth written there.

Spock felt his chest tighten and the braid aligned with his spine twist unhappily, his stomach felt hollow and his heart fluttered and hitched unnaturally. A small storm bubbled up in his gut, churning and flashing crackles of lightening with emotion and disconnected thought. Uncertainty and insecurity flushed into his narrow chest, the tang of it faded and only just familiar from his early days of youth and childhood. Those days before his education and, then, falsely constructed confidence had set in. When his life had been in an uproar, strung between Human and Vulcan and he couldn't understand what was expected from him and what he wanted; why he wasn't supposed to fight for his survival or honor, why restraining his emotions made him heartless, why the sounds of storm had driven him to shelter instead of out as his father's blood line had, why the scent of cooked flesh lingering on his mother's people made him flighty and nervous instead of churned his stomach in hunger and a thousand other 'whys' and 'whats' that broiled and simmered in the past only pushing up and forward to taunt and tear at him, remind him that even he did not understand himself.

Spock shifted, drawing his knees up more and trying to curl tighter on his side and around his core. Nemo A534 shifted, pushing around to accommodate Spock's move and keep his place. The presence of the dog soothed him a bit but still his stomach ached and torso compressed.

The horse had seen it, all of it, right down to the bottom of himself. Blackbird had stripped it right down to his marrow.

The dog at his stomach whined and twisted around to look towards Spock's face with his head cocked and ears laid back. Nemo A534 shifted closer and nudged Spock's arm gently, the cold wet of his nose making the hybrid jerk and cringe away. Tremors started to wrack through Spock, small shakes and twitches of the skin.

This was too much for Nemo A534. The dog had seen shock and seizure victims, dug them out of rubble himself before his life was turned over to the ranch and the cattle, before MyJim and MyCody. The Shepherd knew the shaking could be just as easily followed with a death rattle. Nemo A534 had been there to see and smell and _feel_ the life of a Firemaker snuff out. Nemo A534 was one of those creatures that understood and felt the loss of life when it set it.

Not this Firemaker. He wouldn't let it happen.

This Firemaker was too close to being a My.

Nemo A534 scrambled up, leaping over Spock's twitching form, landing on the hardwood floor with a painful grunt and huff, but the Shepherd didn't miss a step, galloping through the narrow gap of the door and streaking through the halls. His nose twitched following the scent. He barreled into the kitchen, skidding across the floor with clicks and scrapes of nails Nemo A534 crashed into MyJim's legs and downed the blonde. MyJim yelped in surprise and slammed into the tile with a sickly thud of flesh. Nemo A534 twisted free and lunged forward to close his jaws on MyCody's wrist and tugged once before letting go.

The dog leapt over MyJim's collapsed form and twisted back to look pleadingly at MyCody. The rancher snapped into movement, stepping over MyJim and following on the dog's heels.

Spock missed him, the warmth pressed against his stomach and hip had been a primal kind of comfort. The loss was bitter. Spock buried the taste and tried to push away the emotions rampant in his chest and gut, he tried to even his breathing, tried to find some place of meditation and if not that at least unconsciousness, something to overtake the scrubbed raw feeling.

He flinched when awkward weight bounded heavily onto the mattress, stepping over him and dropping down to curl up against his stomach and chest. The dog whined loudly and shook a little himself. The hybrid welcomed the warmth and scent and presence of the animal back. The ache in his stomach lessened a little and settled, though his skin and muscles still jerked and spasmed.

He flinched when foreign and delicate touch lighted on his collar, pressing into the bone and flesh through fabric. It pulled away quickly and Spock curled closer on himself.

Nemo A534 whined louder and nudged his nose against Spock's sternum, forcing him back towards the phantom touch. The dog's skull slid along his hand and a flicker of Nemo A534's mind pushed against his, whispering to him to go back and be still, safe, help, promise promise promise.

Reluctantly Spock allowed himself to shift back and stay still.

The light fluttering touch returned, pressing into the fabric over flesh, whoever it is was conscious of his nature, trying to spare him the stress of another mind. The touch shifted until he felt the compression of weight over a vein, pressing down harder than it would have a human's throat, feeling through not just flesh but fabric as well.

His pulse throbbed through and against the tips of fingers. They hesitated before drawing back. Spock tensed, waiting for words.

A sharp snap of flesh cracking against flesh burst near his ear.

Cody.

Spock forced his eyelidss open and looked up out of the corner of his eye to the petite, dark haired rancher, passed her poised hand where she'd snapped her fingers near his ear to get his attention. The dim light casting her into deep shadow and making the long lines of silver hair flash, dark grey eyes blinked slowly.

She lifted a hand into his sight and made a few small twitches of her fingers and hand, spelling out something to him that took a moment to process.

_**Turn over.**_

Spock shut his eyes and rolled onto his stomach obediently, pushing Nemo A534 over as he carefully twisted his hips and rolled over onto his opposing side to face the door way and Cody. Nemo A534 whined loudly and climbed over him to take his place back against his shaking chest and hitching stomach. Spock hesitated a moment before curling himself around the dog and and dug fingers into the thick ruff of fur and smooth leather of the collar, not enough energy to spare a flicker of disgust at handling the substance of the collar.

The hybrid's eyes flicked to the doorway at a shift of shadow and small worried noise. There was a shuffling and the thud of something settling against the wall, just out of sight. Jim, the blonde clearly banished from the room for the moment but unwilling to stray too far.

Cody moved, drawing Spock's attention back to the deaf rancher, she eased down to squat next to the bed and be eye level with him, sitting back on her heels. She sighed audibly and a hand lifted to rub along her jaw and over her lips.

When her hands signed in the dim light Spock followed them dutifully, reading them as best he could, still learning the silent language.

_**You sick?**_

Spock pulled a hand free and slowly made the simple sign for 'no' before letting it fall slack across the mattress, his hand limp and palm exposed to the air.

Cody licked chapped lips and sighed before twitching her hands again, to her credit Cody's signs were short and familiar, making an attempt to be simple and easy for him.

_**Soul sick? Understand?**_

Spock hesitated.

_**Your heart hurts? Stomach too?**_

The hybrid dropped his eyes towards the Shepherd and his hand threaded in Nemo A534's fur. He heard a sigh from Cody. Clearly given himself away, Spock's eyes snapped up when the sounds of Cody rising and walking away echoed in his ears. He watched her step out of sight and tensed, expecting Jim to slide in but he was left alone with the dog. Spock felt a twist of uncertainty flicker to life in the storm churning and humming in his torso. The hybrid shut his eyes and tried to submerge himself in the company of the dog and pull away from the growing crush of emotions. A few minutes slipped by before the sound of footsteps opened his eyes. He was a little surprised to see Cody crossing back to his side, carrying a large glass of thick, orange liquid.

_**Sit up.**_

She twitched out the command and Spock hesitated only for a fraction before pulling away from Nemo A534 and up against the headboard. Nemo A534 scrambled a little to follow, practically curling into the hybrid's lap. Once settled she offered the glass to him. The surface was cold and made him shiver slightly and he knew drinking it would do nothing for warming his core. He looked up at Cody, wondering if she was aware of his dilemma.

_**Fruit juice. Pick me up. The sugar.**_

Spock looked down in the glass. He could assume that his feeling of exhaustion and strain may be caused by simple low blood sugar, that his diet was not filling out as he needed it to, not with the added stress and new tasks the ranch asked of his body. Not adding up to make up for the lost meditation and unrestful sleep.

But it was cold.

Spock shivered, feeling an unusually strong tremor wrack through his frame and looked back her. He pulled a hand away and made a sign Jim had impressed on him to learn.

_Cold._

Cody's lips quirked slightly.

_**Water's boiling. Drink it.**_

Spock lifted the glass and took a careful mouthful, he licked his lips, catching the last of the lingering sweet taste before looking back up, feeling the mattress dip as Cody gingerly settled herself on the edge and folded her hands in her lap giving him a look that was part warning and part encouraging. There was something behind the grey of her eyes unreadable or understandable.

Spock looked up at her through his lashes and took another small sip and swallowed slowly. He shook a little at the cold that puddled in his core. His dark eyes met grey ones then traveled down to tanned and weathered hands.

_**Want to tell me what you saw?**_

Spock lifted an eyebrow and cocked his head slightly, his fingers twitched. _What?_

_**In his eyes.**_

Spock went very still but watched as Cody's hands continued to move, weaving words in signals. Spock could almost say, with the short and smooth movements, that Cody was 'speaking' as gently as she could, soothing him silently.

_**Don't have to. But it's heavy, what he shows you. Important. But heavy. It can weight you down. **_

Spock kept his hands wrapped tightly around the icy glass and tried to bury the shakes strengthening in his frame.

He tried not to flinch back when Cody reached toward him, she paused for a moment as if waiting for permission before lighting her hand on Spock's wrist, tracing over the fabric of his shirt and rubbed across the small button of his cuff. Spock's eyes locked on her hand, the surface discolored with tiny nicks and lines of long healed scars and the skin rough and thick like well used leather. She gave a small squeeze before sitting back letting her hand slide away.

She sighed loudly, her small chest expanding and collapsing wearily a hand lifting towards his lips and scrubbed her jaw again before she sat up straighter.

_**I looked at him once.**_ She signed slowly, some words she knew Spock was unfamiliar with were spelled out completely before the single simple sign was repeated. She was giving the hybrid a impromptu lesson as she communicated with him. _**When he and I were both young. There wasn't much in his eyes then. Tall trees in autumn. A narrow trail through mountains. I was on Blackbird's back and we met a boy there, dark hair and blue eyes. We were both lost. But when it happened I think we were both found... least for a little while.**_

Spock blinked and look up at the grey eyes steady and quiet; ancient in ways no Vulcan's gaze could be and too feral to be entirely human.

Spock fumbled his hands slightly, like staggering and stuttering over a new language, taking the time to spell out more than one word entirely when the simple sign escaped him. _You suggest a vision of some kind? A premonition._

Cody's lips quirked slightly, bemused at his speech pattern carrying over even to Sign. She worked her jaw for a moment and shrugged one shoulder before lifting her hands to speak. Her short strings of words were lengthening, becoming a little more difficult to decipher but it seemed to only be an encouragement, an assurance that she believed Spock was becoming more practiced. That he was understanding more.

_**Sometimes. Depends on what he sees in you, what he decides you need to see. Some get to look at the past, others the present. Sometimes it's a dream.**_

Spock narrowed his eyes at her. He was starting to become agitated under the weight of the expected and accepted spirituality. If Cody understood the small facial expression she betrayed none of it in her own face. A 'silence' seemed to fall between them before Cody broke it with a few short twists of her fingers and roll of her knuckles.

_**What you see, in the eyes of the Thunderbird, is yours alone. But I'll take the burden if you'll give it.**_

Spock shifted slightly and felt his chest and stomach compress tighter. He knew it was human nature to store away their emotional reactions and strains, to carry their burdens alone, to suffer in silence and solitude. To hide away those things that shook them to the core, pleasant or otherwise. To keep to themselves and when the weight of it became too much to lash out to try and make those around them suffer at their own level.

Spock crinkled his nose slightly at the distaste of the idea.

But wasn't this what he was reduced to, stripped of the balm and soothing nature of meditation he resolved to the actions of his human heritage. Practically incapacitated with exhaustion and strain, shaking and chilled, literally chilled, to his core. He didn't... feel right. _Nothing_ felt right.

In his lap Nemo A534 shifted, carefully climbing further into place and pressing closer to his belly. The dog whined loudly and twisted to press his face against Spock's hip.

Just outside the cracked door the obscure shape of the blonde shifted and made some undecipherable noise of discontent.

When the hybrid lifted his eyes to look at Cody the grey pools were as unshakable as they had been, behind them was a flicker of something Spock had never seen, even from his parents. Concern, fear, an urge to protect more fierce and loyal than a parent's.

It was the look of an elder sibling over their younger. The gaze in Cody's eyes was tentative, carefully designed to only just show, a strange kind of offering. Telling Spock, in her silent way, that thought she barely knew him, still strangers, that this was his if he wanted it.

It was more than Sybok had ever extended to him. The hybrid had never seen the look in his elder half-brother's eyes, even when Sybok had estranged himself in choice of emotion over logic.

_A storm._ His hand staggered over the signs and recalling the flickers he'd seen in Blackbird's dark eyes. _Noting like on Vulcan. The precipitation was not rain but ice. There was already a deep fall of snow, there was a shadow. From above. A bird._

_**Where the wings pointed or rounded?**_

Spock hesitated, thinking back. _Rounded_

His eyes followed a few signs of Cody's hands and her face seemed unsurprised. _**Owl. It's a symbol of wisdom. Knowledge.**_

Spock nodded and carefully continued his narrative. _In the snow I could see a line of tracks-_

Spock's hands stilled when Cody's hand lifted, halting him as she interjected.

_**What kind of tracks? Prints, like an animal?**_

Spock hesitated _This is a significant piece of information?_

_**Could be.**_

Spock looked down at Nemo A534, his eyes traveling to the dog's large paws. He knew what the Shepherd's tracks looked like, having seen the impressions trailed in the mud or dirt in the animal's wake.

_Like a dog. But larger._

Cody shifted and rubbed a hand along her jaw. After a moment she let the hand drift up and work in her hair, scratching her scalp before dropping back into signs _**How big?**_

Spock lifted his hand, showing his palm to Cody, the length and width much larger than the small rough mitts of the deaf rancher. Cody read the signal.

_**Your hand? Big as your hand?**_

Spock nodded.

Cody cast her eyes away from Spock, looking towards the window and settled her chin in one of her hands. It set the hybrid's nerves on end. He wanted to ask but was spared it when Cody's free hand lifted and made a single sign in the air that Spock had yet to learn. Spock shook his head and gave the sign Jim had taught him, asking for a translation, a spelling.

Cody caught it from the corner of her eye and signed four letters.

W. O. L. F.

Spock's shoulders tensed, the wire going taught between them and the braid aligned with his spine twisted as the realization of the concept behind the four letters settled in.

The hybrid knew next to nothing about wolves. He'd yet to see even a truly detailed picture of the highly endangered predator, he'd had no reason to express interest, no reason to seek out any knowledge on the wolf.

Just as he had the horse.

And like the horse all he knew of wolves stemmed from a single source. A source that saw all the demons and nightmares and monsters of his life in the shape of the canid. A source whose face was permanently by nicks and lines that he swore were the remains of being mauled by a spectral wolf. Wolves haunted the mountains like they did Jim's nightmares.

He was led to think that to the souls around him, the souls that his world had begun to shrink around, the wolf was lethal and unwelcome.

The wolf was a curse.

And it had walked across the eyes of Blackbird under his name.

This... it couldn't...

The wire across his shoulders snapped.

Spock felt pain start to bubble onto the surface of his mind before threading through each thought and memory, cracking across synapses as they connected and laid into the churn of copper blood in a delicate web of veins. Spock slumped back against the wood of the bed's headboard, letting his skull impact loudly with the surface but couldn't muster the feeling to care about whatever pain it may have caused him physically.

He blinked slowly and felt it was hard to breath as his mind, clouded with pulsing ache, started to pull away from his body and even the overpowering crush of emotions and confusion and exhaustion was far away; his extremities going numb and the juice glass started to slip in his grip as he nerves dulled and muscle tension started to go slack.

There was a physical, human reaction that Spock knew little of other than the fact that it happened to his mother's race.

Sometimes it became too much, a human would push and push, taking themselves to the razor edge of their ability to cope and adjust, they strained and fought and struggled until even their sweat ran to thin and their breath was short. Sometimes, in the fight, the head would turn a little bit to far for the neck to keep up or the heart would beat too fast and the blood to thin for the lungs to use. Sometimes it became too much and the body reacted violently, lashing out at the mind and taking control. The muscles and sinew and tendons would hum quietly iit's over, you've done too much and forgotten yourself I'm going to take over for a while, I'll put us right.

Spock had a fraction of a moment to think distractedly and abstractedly if his Vulcan heritage was bound to it as well before his world went white.

The bleak, dull white was far from a comfort but it was there and did nothing to help him and he could do nothing of it so he accepted it with a detachment that should have worried him

The white snapped just as suddenly as it had come on rendered apart as his unconsciousness had, with a scent. But this was nothing like the linger of sweet hay and warmth. The scent was vulgar and bitter, it burned the inside of his nose and down his throat. Spock's face twisted and he jerked away physically from the ugly scent.

He was lying on his side on something harder and colder than the mattress of his borrowed bed. his hands skidded over hardwood to get away. He was rigid for a second before his strenght started to seep away and he slowly sank back down, rolling onto his belly and laying with his cheek pressed into the frigid surface of the hard wood.

A point of warm settled against his shoulder blade and started rubbing a soothing circle over the slackening muscle and bone. He became aware of the soft noises of movement around him.

"Take it easy, Spock." Jim's voice sounded shaken and far away. The hybrid took a broken breath and coughed quietly and hoarsely, no excess energy there to muster and put force behind the action. There wasn't strength to shiver. The young hybrid was having trouble working out which system his body had sacrificed to continue breathing. He lay, wheezing quietly into the hardwood.

He flinched slightly when a careful press of fingertips brushed his throat, holding for a moment before sliding up towards the juncture of his jaw and ear. Somewhere deep in him Spock knew he was supposed to feel something more significant than just the tentative warmth of the touch. He mentally fumbled and reached deeper. There was a slight hum, a foreign buzz that felt natural and unnatural at once but it was just beyond his reach.

"Don't fall back in again yet, Spock C'mon. Stay with us." Jim's voice coaxed and Spock forced his eyes open for a breath of a moment before letting them slide shut again.

"Better..." Jim soothed his voice smoothing out and steadying.

Spock coughed tiredly once.

"You passed out Spock. Scared the Hell out of us."

Involuntary loss of consciousness.

Spock blinked slowly, his vision occupied by the nicked and worn hardwood of the floor and what looked oddly like Jim's jean clad knee. Set off a bit where a set of tawny paws shifting and pacing nervously with the soft click of nails next to a pair of scarred suede work boots under crinkled, dirt dotted folds of denim. Spock let out a long, thick breath and shut his eyes again.

"I did not mean to cause alarm." The hybrid rasped roughly.

"Yeah. We know." Jim sighed, his voice disembodied but close. "You've been out for a few minutes but your body temperature bottomed out. Can you sit up?"

Spock shifted, pressing a palm flat against the floor. It was like dipping his hand into an ice bath; hyper-sensitive nerves, even dulled in a state of shock, short circuited the chill wracked through to his core. His breath tore away in a hiss and he jerked his hand back curling his fingers in to protect his palm and drew it towards his chest.

"No." He hummed out.

There was a soft pass of air above his head. "You're going to have to play through the pain, at least for a few minutes Spock. C'mon."

Carefully Jim tugged at his sleeve and with a little resistance Spock relaxed and gave up his arm and numbly pressed his opposing shoulder and elbow into the floor, keeping his hand favored against his stomach as Jim wound his arm with Spock's and pulled him up slowly to a sitting position. Spock flickered his eyes open at an agitated whine and shuffle of boots, his world spun before settling and now he could see the nervous dog to his chest and throat and the deaf rancher to her waist. He didn't dare lift his head and look up at them.

The hybrid tensed slightly when Jim pulled his arm across his neck and along his shoulders and slid his own around Spock's waist, fingers clutching into the thick fabric of his jeans and shirts.

"On three, Spock, stand up, alright?"

"Yes." Spock rasped, his head falling forward until his chin was tucked into his chest.

"'Kay... three."

Spock felt himself hauled upwards, the grip on his wrist and waist tightening sharply as he was pulled flush into Jim's oddly warm flank. He stumbled and tried to lock his knees but the hybrid felt himself slowly starting to sink down to the floor again.

He pressed against Jim when a new body slid up against his other side, pulling his arm across a set of finer, narrower shoulders that were below the height of his own. A slim, unnaturally strong arm linked across his back alongside Jim's and gripped his opposing hip.

Spock tilted his head and cracked open his eyes looking briefly down at a foreign rounded scalp of cinnamon hair streaked with thin lines of silver and white before letting his lids slide shut again and the breath his out of his chest.

"You're halfway there, Spock. Vertical." Jim hummed into the curve of his delicately pointed ear. "We'll do all the hauling, you just put those Vulcan motor skills to work and walk."

It was like wading through deep water. The sensation of being unstable on his feet was eerie and unsettling. Spock felt himself stumbling more than actually walking, tugged along by the insistent and coaxing current of Jim and Cody. They made a wake on Nemo A534's heels as the dog paced and pranced in tight circles or backwards in their path. Where ever they were going it wasn't back into the confines of the guest room and borrowed bed as he was guided out of the room and into the hall. Following the line of the wall around the stairs and through the living room and front hall into the opposing space of the den.

The blonde and brunette nudged him gently around and crouched as they lowered him to the floor, Spock's knees gave out willingly. They carefully propped him up against some piece of furniture. He opened his eyes and loosely looked around but nothing of his surroundings of the new room sank in. He felt something shift down to crouch at his side, he swung his gaze toward Jim as the blonde squatting in next to him.

"I believe I am suffering from acute illness due to fatigue."

"Montana kicked your ass, huh?" Jim hummed quietly and took an offered stack of folded squares of fabric from Cody before the petite rancher crossed the room and started working around a small, stone lined alcove carved out of the opposing wall. "She's not a state to screw with."

"I have not meditated for nearly a week... perhaps a healing trance-"

"Might put you in a coma. We have to warm you up first." Jim unfolded and shook out the blankets and haphazardly draped them over Spock's frame, layering lighter, thinner cloths into place before pushing himself up and away from Spock and jogging out of sight. Spock twisted trying to follow the movement but couldn't keep up.

His attention snapped around to the hollow thuds of wood connecting with stone. He studied Cody's hunched form and shifted as Nemo A534 paced nervously back and forth before wheeling around and sprinting out of sight, thundering up the stairs.

The deaf rancher tossed a few more chunks of dried, split wood into the alcove and crumpled a few bits of paper into gaps in the heap she'd created before striking an antique Zippo lighter into life and setting it to the tinder and wood.

Something primal bubbled into his hollow chest, the first tendrils of physical sensation started to thread back into his limbs.

Dark eyes followed the slow growth as the flames started to eat away at the wood, flushing in blooms of red, gold and orange. Casting the hearth with light and pulsing out a slowly growing warmth. Spock felt his frame spasm involuntarily once before going still again.

A good sign.

His eyes stayed on the growing fire and twitched slightly when Cody ran her hand gently over the top of his head, petting his hair own as she quickly stepped out of the room as Jim crossed back in with his arms heaped with the patterned quilt off the guest room and the russet, downy comforter from his own bed. On his heels trotted Nemo A534, the dog's jaws clenched tightly around a slightly faded and well worn navy colored blanket. It dragged on the floor, too large to keep completely off the ground. In one corner embroidered in neat gold thread the words 'MPD; K-9 Officer Nemo A534' was stitched into the fabric.

"Check it out Spock." Jim hummed quietly. "He brought you his blanket."

The dog picked awkwardly around Jim's legs before, blanket still clenched in his teeth, Nemo A534 climbed into Spock's lap, pinning the navy blanket under him and over Spock's lower half.

The hybrid blinked down at dog, shifting slightly under the new weight. Somewhat at a loss of what else to do.

Jim unceremoniously dumped the quilt then the comforter over Nemo A534 in his lap and Spock, trapping the dog between the layers of blankets. The dog only shifted around in a large lump under the heavy covers, draped half in Spock's lap and spilling over his legs to the floor.

Jim settled himself back down next to Spock, pressing in through the layers that were slowly starting to warm. Instinctively the hybrid tucked his face from the nose down into the russet comforter. He breathed in deeply and understood why, perhaps for the wrong reasons, it was given the name.

Drawing in the entirely human scent; sweet hay and lingering bite of sweat and bitter soap and slight stomach turning touch of leather, the faded musk of Nemo A534 and general smell of horse, all lightened and tied together with something like spiced honey, milk, coffee and ozone that only life in the abyss of space could leave.

His senses drowning in the scent that was entirely _Jim_ Spock... felt comforted.

"Never had a fire before November before." Jim said quietly next to him, crossing his legs and tucking his hands into the front pocket of a navy colored hooded sweatshirt.

"It is satisfactory." Spock's words muffled into the russet fabric but he was simply incapable of pulling his face out of the fabric.

"Cody'll get it going, she wants you warmed up by the end of the hour. Once you're up and out though she'll probably skin you alive."

He quirked one eyebrow at Jim and looked at him from the corner of her eye. He was wracked with another small shiver that sent a pulse of warmth through his frame and under the layers of blankets Nemo A534 crawled up closer to his stomach.

"She doesn't like being spooked, Spock. And you're doing a great job of scaring her to death. She'll take it out of your hide. Don't think for one second I'm kidding either."

He glanced up and pulled one hand free of the pocket as Cody approached, carefully balancing three large mugs in her hands. Jim lightly took one offered to him then nudged Spock slightly with his elbow.

The hybrid hesitated before reluctantly breaking open the cocoon the blankets had made and took the mug he was starting to recognize as his own. He wrapped his hands around the ceramic, it caused a new ripple of tremors to flushed through him. It was promising. If he had the energy to shiver then his core temperature was heating up. He dipped his nose towards the colored surface of the heated liquid on the mug and sniffed.

The tea had a slightly sugary scent to it. Possibly pure cane or honey added to thicken an attempt at the tea. Cody had evidently realized that her method of the teas and coffees was too strong for him. By the scent she'd gone towards the other extreme. He licked chapped lips before taking a small mouthful from it.

Significantly weak but the foresight of added sucrose substance made it bearable.

"She tries." Jim said quietly, muttering from the corner of his mouth, eyes watching as Cody lightly stepped around them and eased into the seat immediately to the right of Spock's shoulder. He was propped up against a sofa or a loveseat of some kind.

Spock hummed as he took another large mouthful and swallowed it. The warmth trickled down to pool in his stomach and pulsed out through his core and up his spine. He shivered hard, his teeth clacking before he consciously locked his jaw to prevent the noise.

The hybrid was sure that Jim had heard the noise but the blonde was quiet and drank his coffee without comment.

"May I ask the time?"

"It's about nineteen hundred."

"... should I inquire as to the date?"

"You've been in and out of it for about twenty hours. Spock listen... maybe you should head back to the Academy... you're just... not doing too well out here."

The hybrid went still and looked sideways at the blonde. Jim, for what it was worth, was staring down into his ceramic mug and half drunk coffee.

"I have no desire to leave the ranch."

"I figured but if it's risking your health-"

"Jim. I must admit that the last few days have been trying and exhausting on both my mental and physical stability. I have suffered several 'shocks to the system' I believe is the terminology. The severity of the last caused my decline in health. I experienced what is referred to as a 'spiritual epiphany', correct?"

"Depends... but it sounds about right." Jim twisted as Wagi and Canteska walked stiffly into the room. The dark Shepherd pinned her ears at Spock but made no other inclinations of hostility. The albino, aged animal grunted softly and made no attempt to detour, casually stepping across Jim's then Spock's laps, successfully trodding on Nemo A534 under the blankets and getting a muffled yelp. Canteska moved to sit in front of Cody and rested his large head on her knee.

Wagi folded herself down on Jim's hip and watched Spock warily from across his lap.

"Then I will inform you that there is no reference for such an event in Vulcan society. Perhaps the ritual of Kolinahr, a pathway to higher enlightenment through the purge of all emotion is a point of comparison. "

Next to him Jim tensed for a moment. "The enlightenment part, maybe."

"The state of Kolinahr, or arei'mnu, is the highest level of achievement a Vulcan may attain." His teeth clacked again when he shook hard once. "Not all are able to reach such a position, only the most devoted and trained to the works of Surak. Even then the judgment of the Masters may find the individual wanting."

Jim nodded slowly but there was a nervous edge to him, a coiling and tightening of the muscles that looked very much like a horse's shoulder when the animal made to bolt.

"Sounds intense... but Spock, um, in a couple of weeks, month maybe, it's going to be below freezing out here and... we measure snow in feet, not inches. Not to mention the arctic winds, microbursts and ice storms-"

Spock stopped midway through taking a drink of the weak tea.

iIce storms...

His mind drifted back to the shadows of Blackbird's eyes, deep snow and an ice storm, the shadow of an owl and a trail of wolf tracks. Spock shut his eyes at the unpleasant lurch in his stomach but only acknowledged the pressure of the insight at a fraction of what it had been.

"Spock it's just not the right kind for weather for growing Vulcans. Hell it's dangerous for humans-"

"Jim."

The blonde went still and carefully lifted his eyes, looking up at Spock through thick eyelashes. He looked younger and vulnerable, his free hand tightened in the thick black fur of Wagi's scruff and ears.

"I have yet to be present at the ranch for the entirety of one Terran week. The significant change in climate, sea level elevation and other weather conditions in correlation to the expected participation of physical labor required of a position at the ranch is drastic and as you have made the statement, not ideal for Vulcan physiology. Without the addition of minimal required meditation and inability to control my internal systems has been specifically trying. But I do not think I have had significant time to adjust and assimilate myself to the new conditions. Given the time and rendered some aid I see no reason why I will not be fully functioning by the end of the second week if not sooner."

Jim's brow furrowed.

"The Terran term is, 'give me the benefit of the doubt'. I have no desire to leave the ranch. No desire to leave the mountains. None to discontinue my lessons in riding or sign. I have no desire to depart from the company of the animals or Cody or yourself."

He shivered hard once and waited a moment before taking a deep draw from the weak tea. He heard the blonde sigh loudly and work his jaw.

"Alright... alright I won't fight you on this but I swear Spock, that if you stick it out and you do this thing again and you pass out and the body temperature thing I will have your ass air lifted Missoula, no questions. Got it?"

Spock raised an eyebrow as he sipped quietly at the weak tea. Jim snorted softly and sank his hands back into the pocket of the hooded sweatshirt and slumped back against the sofa behind them, letting his head fall back on the cushions. This hair splayed slightly. It was growing long, starting to curl at the edges. His cerulean eyes flickered with the cast of fire light, turning umber at the edges instead of silver.

Spock felt his body spasm, pulses of electricity rippling through muscles and joints. As the others Spock expected it to pass, waited but the tremors didn't stop. He shook uncontrollably, shivering as the artificial and outward warmth finally became pronounced enough to urge his own systems to take up the practice, his internal core started to heat and churn into life. Thrumming and pulsing outwards. His teeth clacked and chattered and clenching his jaw only caused the vibrations to seep deep into the mandible bone and joint, making it ache.

Large, calloused hands gingerly unwound his grip from the mug and pulled it away with the slight press of fingertips into his inner wrist. A faint pulse of concern and a impulse to sooth and comfort passed over Spock's consciousness.

His hands shook and the hybrid drew them into his chest and shifted down into the layers of blankets, comforter and Nemo A534's added body heat.

He didn't flinch away when he felt Cody's hand feathered through his hair gently for a moment before pulling away.

The young hybrid became vividly aware that the world had crushed closer from all sides. Jim sifted in from the right and Cody from the left and Nemo A534 in against his torso. At his back was the sofa warmed by his own body. Spock breathed deeply, trying to do it slowly, trying to control the shakes shuddering through his frame. He felt a hand light on his shoulder, briefly, carefully before Jim slid his arm across the line of Spock's shoulders and settled into place with the thick fabric of his sweatshirt against the back of his neck. The flesh of his abdomen vibrated when Nemo A534 whined and occasionally Cody's fingers would ruffle through his hair, gently scratching his scalp and sending a flicker of absolutely silent but brilliantly clear concern and the gentle hum of what might be affection through his dulled and disoriented mind.

Though his body was in turmoil, crumbling around him under the strain internally Spock found himself oddly at peace. Calm.

Quite literally the eye of the storm. His heart beat was erratic and oddly slow but it didn't alarm him or upset his systems. His breathing hitched and shallow, full of Jim's scent raw at his side and deeply seeded in the fabric in his nose. Every physical sensation was dulled, numbed due to his own detachment from his body but none of it was painful other than the occasional clack of enamel striking enamel in his mouth. He was uncomfortable, his skin cooler to the touch than it should have been and still beyond exhausted and worn from the inside out.

Logically he should have wanted with every fiber of his mind and self to be rid of Montana and it's traitorous, aesthetically pleasing mountains and high prairies. Logically he should have wanted out, wanted to get away from a place that toyed with him, rubbed him raw and enjoyed taking him a part piece by piece until Spock was reduced to ash be swept away by the mountain wind.

Logically he should have wanted and escape as much as he physically needed one.

The muscle of Jim's arm twitched, squeezing him just slightly as the blonde shifted closer. Cody swept a few errant strands of hair behind the delicate point of his ear, making sure not to keep physical contact too long.

Spock breathed deeply and soaked in the peace at his core. He...

He felt safe.

A deep, honest safety that went hand in hand with whimsical, childhood things like chasing lighting insects at twilight, lapping snowflakes crisp from the air and a thousand other youthful joys that the hybrid had never experienced and did not know he been robbed of.

It was a security that Spock hadn't realized he missed until it had been dropped back into his lap without ceremony, limitations and expectations.

"Have you spoken to Cody?" Spock asked quietly, for once not making an attempt to elaborate or make himself completely clear. Next to him Jim breathed out quietly and understood him perfectly.

"No. I heard you hit the floor and kind of shut everything else out."

"I expect you want to know what it was that I 'saw'." Spock mumbled into the fabric of the comforter, his teeth chattering slightly. Jim's lips quirked in good nature.

"I'm not going ask you to tell me but you know me, Spock. 'Want to know, gotta know, how does it work, why, now'-"

"No. You are not." Spock interrupted uncharacteristically. "You are not so impulsive as you would have the world see. The brash creature they paint you to be is not in your blood. Curiosity does not make you rash. You are infinite in your patience, it's written in everything you do, in the company you keep of deaf women and brutalized animals that you yourself reformed."

Jim shifted uncomfortably and worried his bottom lip absently before tugging at his ear, both nervous habits "Spock-"

"No Vulcan could make such a commitment."

There was a pregnant beat of silence that was only slackened by the bubble and crackle of fire bitten logs. One crumpled with a groan and heave of splitting wood and a gasp of embers and sparks.

"Not one that requires so much self sacrifice and personal discomfort." The hybrid focused his eyes on the fire. "Not one that requires such... exposure."

"Quit." Jim shifted uncomfortably and dug his fingers into the back of his neck and tugged at the lengthening strands of his hair. "Too much credit."

Spock blinked at the agitation in the blonde. Jim's face just slightly flushed and his shoulders were drawn in a tight hitch. Where a slim strip of Jim's bare wrist was pressing into his neck Spock felt tension and unease, he actually twitched his head slightly as a very faint ringing started in the back of his mind, blossoming into a fresh, foreign ache in the base of his skull.

"I..." Spock stalled. He knew that Jim did not appreciate apologies, that the young blonde didn't want them. Spock steadied himself. "I speak the truth, Jim."

The ringing in the back of his mind and ache grew and Jim gnawed on his lower lip so deeply that Spock half expected it to split and well with blood.

"This truth disturbs you." Spock shifted slightly and felt Nemo A534 in his lap roll onto his side. "Why?"

Jim heaved a deep sigh. "You shouldn't be praised for what you're supposed to do anyway. You do what's right for doing what's right and not for glory or attention. The above and the beyond should be the norm."

The flush of his cheeks deepened and the ringing headache pitched slightly, growing considerably louder. The pain made Spock shut his eyes briefly. He would have preferred to break contact, retreat from Jim's influence but the hybrid fell a tug in his stomach to stay still. A sense told him that pulling away physically from Jim now would be unwise.

"Who was it that impressed this on you?"

"Benjamin Chicalato. Cody's father." Jim heaved a sigh so deep that it vibrated and cleared his throat.

The blondes eye were locked on Wagi's ears. The dark Shepherd blinked up at him with large brown eyes and wrinkled her nose before whining softly.

"I understand." Spock assured and felt some of his own tension bleed away when Jim physically relaxed, slumping back against the sofa and letting his head fall back. The hybrid was more than a little intrigued when he realized that the hum of Jim's mind had quieted and calmed. The sharp, insistent ringing had faded completely, the ache going with it enough for Spock to return his attention to the tremors racking through his muscles.

These, too, were beginning to quiet as he core temperature steadily rose to a more comfortable level. A somewhat comfortable silence fell over them, the calm only broken by the sounds of the two humans swallowing their coffee or when a log crumpled in the heart. A low, muffle wheezing sound rose from Canteska. The white Shepherd had curled up on the rug in front of the fire and was sleeping deeply. The wheeze pitched into a croaking grinding noise that tugged Jim's lips up in a smile.

"Is there something wrong with his respiratory system?" Spock inquired.

"No. He just snores." Jim shrugged his shoulder against Spock's.

They both tilted their heads as Cody pushed herself up from the couch and walked around them towards the kitchen, her hands twitching in Jim's face for a split second as she went by and stepped around the sofa and out of sight. The signs had been too fast for Spock to read.

"What did she say?"

The blonde jerked his head dismissively and flicked a cerulean eye to look in his direction."You're not shaking anymore."

"My temperature has risen to a more comfortable level, though I am still experiencing a state of fatigue." The hybrid stated honestly and shifted slightly, feeling a numbness in his legs under Nemo A534's weight, he curled his toes in his woolen socks and stretched his ankles trying to open deeper circulation to the nerves and muscles.

"What do you need?" Jim asked and moved around, loosening his own limbs in preparation to stand.

"The most demanding necessity I require is an optimal level of meditation." Spock worked his hands, rubbing his palms and fingers to gather a little warmth by friction into them. He repressed the flicker of electricity the action sent through his arms and into his stomach.

Which was decidedly empty and twisted unhappily.

"And perhaps some form of sustenance."

It was said almost timidly. Vulcans were a desert species, by nature were designed physically as such. A full blooded Vulcan did not need to intake water or food every day to sustain themselves. Fasting was not a practiced event but it was one that occurred naturally and most observed it with a casual air that they did with many other things that were 'natural' to them.

Spock could not go so long as his kindred could without something in his stomach, and he dared not avoid water the way other Vulcans did, an attempt in his youth had left another mark on a very long list of incidents in his unique medical charts.

He was perhaps the only being in the universe with Vulcan heritage that had experienced dehydration.

His need for forage at is was would have starved a human but it was nearly triple that of a full blood of his father's species and left a feeling in the young hybrid of being glutinous and primitive, reminded daily that only animals ate constantly in his homeworld and most others in the Federation. Reminded by classmates and elder students in that potent Vulcan passive aggressive way, that cows and sheep grazed for hours at a time and never seemed to stop or want to before they were carted off to slaughter.

The stigma had eased some on his entrance into Starfleet but it was ground into him by then and was replaced by another of being entirely vegan. In the Terran society his vegan diet reflected what he'd been compared to in the Vulcan one.

Cows and sheep.

And horses.

The thought struck Spock abstractedly and made him blink.

Horses grazed a fraction of their own weight daily, didn't he himself dole out thick flakes of sweet smelling hay to them as they were locked in their stalls the night before? Sustained themselves and all their innate strength and soundness with only grasses and grains?

Spock scrubbed a hand across his abdomen under the layered blankets and comforter and Nemo A534.

"Yes." He said resolutely. "Something to eat."

Jim nodded and awkwardly pushed himself up. "I'll get Cody to make you her ox tail stew minus the ox tail… so vegetable stew. It'll be a couple hours…."

"If I am able to make an attempt at meditation then the time will be satisfactory."

"For you. I'm going to grab something now." Jim shrugged and stuck his hands deep into the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt and walked away, the bare soles of his feet padding softly on the rug and hardwood flooring. Wagi scrambled up, cocking her head slightly at Spock for a moment before rushing to follow on Jim's heels with the click of her nails louder that Jim's walk.

Spock twitched his head to the side to watch the blonde a little longer, ears perking slightly to catch the light footsteps he left in his wake. The hybrid settled back and looked around the small den, eyes and mind cleared enough to take in the room. It looked something like the living room had, a semi circle of plush sofas and chairs, tawny colored instead of russet, looped around the large stone work hearth. The stone work mantel of the hearth was occupied by small, standing frame pictures of what Spock was beginning to realize were the Chicalato family members. At the far end Spock again saw a rendition photograph depicting the dark haired man and four year old child he'd seen in the photograph in Cody's room and in the large print of the World Equestrian Games in Jim's.

Spock wondered idly for a moment who they were before turning his attention back to the room at large. There was an ottoman upholstered with thick fleece and a low coffee table of wood that seemed to have been shoved out of the way in a hurry. More likely than not to make way for Spock himself in front of the fire. The thick rug lying on the floor looked to be of some kind of animal hide pelted in thick, curly fur a few inches long.

Spock pressed back closer to the sofa and pulled his socked feet off the edge of the rug before looking back around the room. The walls had taken on the standard of framed and matted photographs and mounted pieces of riding tack. At the far end of the room was a set of doors set on rails that were half slid back, just enough for the light of the fire cast to show the faint outlines of what looked like a formal dining furniture of a long, heavy wood table and matching straight backed chairs. He attention snapped back around as Jim padded into the den again, chewing on something audibly and carrying a data pad and leather bound book.

Spock looked expecting to see Wagi following him but it was Situpsa and the albino fawn trotting along behind.

"She's got it going already." Jim swallowed heavily as he spoke and licked his lips before dropping absently onto one end of the sofa at Spock's shoulder. The blonde deftly pulled up his legs to cross them and settled the book and pad in his lap. Spock nodded watching as Sitpusa made a few fumbled attempts before leaping awkwardly onto the sofa and plodded over to curl himself in Jim's lap. The fawn looked ready to follow before twitching it's large ears around and looking at Spock. The albino blinked large pale blue eyes and bleated quietly before moving a little closer to sniff at the hybrid's face.

Spock pulled back instinctively but the fawn persisted, trying to snuffle in his ear.

"Hey. Quit." Jim growled, unfolding one leg and gently pushing the fawn back his foot. "Let him alone."

The fawn bleated and shook his small head, before advancing towards Spock again.

"I said quit." Jim warned and set his calf against the fawn's chest and pushed it back and around. Small hooves skidded and clicked on the hardwood and the fawn bleated unhappily as Jim pushed it around until he could easily scoop one arm under the albino's gut and lift it bodily from the floor. The creature folded it's legs under itself in mid air as Jim awkwardly maneuvered the fawn into his lap next to Situpsa.

"You'd think a damn deer would be more about hiding and avoiding people." Jim grumbled.

"That creature was persistently aggressive when I allowed it out of it's stall." Spock agreed,

Jim's eyebrow quirked up. "So you're the one that let him out. You've unleashed an unholy terror Spock."

"It doesn't seem to cause much distress."

"Not yet. But just give him some time. That's how we came across him, wandered himself into a grain bin and got caught in there. Surprised he survived at all being an albino. Anahme. We shoulda named you _Tante Tanka._"

The fawn bleated once, twisting his small head so Jim could scratch it under the jaw.

"This is Lakota." Spock shifted a little until he was twisted better to look up at Jim from the floor.

The blonde hummed in agreement. "_Anahme_, his name, is 'secret'. _Tante Tanka_ is 'tornado'. I'll teach you sometime."

Spock straightened a little. He'd always had an affinity for language. Granted most of his study had been focused on xenolinguistics, not what could be considered 'dead' languages or even the multiple languages of the human race. Most Terrans spoke Standard and it was unnecessary to learn beyond that.

"I would find that most stimulating."

Jim shrugged a shoulder and balancing his book on Anahme's back and Situpsa's nose started to leaf through it slowly. "You'll have to learn anyway unless you want to spend most of the holidays left out. When the Brotherhood and Ben and Grandfather come up that's pretty much all that'll be spoken around here. Grandfather doesn't know Standard at all and knowing him he'll want to practically interrogate you. He did Bones."

Spock wetted his lips and set aside the conversation of the Chicalato familial migration to the ranch in the coming weeks for another time. "Are you intending to remain here?"

Jim lifted his eyes up over the top of the book, a text embossed with white lettering on the back in the title _Horsepower: A Memoir_. "You going to try and meditate?"

Spock dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement.

"Then yup."

The blonde settled back into the book, his eyes drifting over the pages, following the lines of words dutifully. As Spock watched Jim seemed to go into a state of hibernation. His eyes drifted until they were half lidded, his breathing slowed to a minimum that was barely a soft pass of air in and out. Situpsa and Anahme shifted around in his lap until they were comfortable and curled around each other to drift to sleep.

Spock hesitated a moment longer, listening to the faint sound of the blonde next to him breathing before forcibly pulling his legs from under Nemo A534 and folding them, taking care to keep the layers of blankets and comforters in place.

The dog grunted unhappily and shifted around in an odd lump under Jim's russet comforter until the dog was presumably curled into a ball aligned with Spock's shins. Spock shifted until he was sitting up straighter, his back off the sofa and moved his arms until his elbows were perched on his knees, forearms along his calves and the backs of his hands settled lightly on his ankles. Spock took a few steady and slow breaths, filling his chest as deeply as his lungs would allow before letting the breath out slowly. On the third draw of air Spock let his eyes drift shut, his lids back lit with the flickering light of the fire.

He hung there is stasis, without anchor, to aware of the world around him, of the room and the fire and the dogs and fawn. Too aware of Jim.

Spock huffed softly, as much a sigh as his raising would allow him, a small noise of defeat.

The breath left his chest in tandem with one of Jim's.

Without conscious thought Spock's breathing fell into perfect rhythm with the blonde's, matching it as easily and naturally as Jim matched his steps with a walking horse.

The rolling hitching storm of Spock's mind slowed, balking suddenly and stumbling as it fell of kilter. Spock flinched internally and felt things starting to unravel and spin out of control. He hadn't meant to be so abrupt, stall out so quickly. He grasped for something to set a tempo, to a put a rhythm back into the maelstrom.

The pattern of his breathing and the pattern of Jim's breathing clung to each other as Spock desperately tried to mold his mind to it, tried to match it. The pass of air and breath needed to be stronger, it wasn't enough. Spock rushed through his scattering thoughts, trying to find something in sequence, something normal to build off, something that had a rhythm and purpose. He was slung violently against the sound of thunder and smell of animal sweat and drum of a ten pound heart. Spock latched desperately onto the rise and fall of hoof beats in dirt and bent his mind to will against it.

The maelstrom gave a single, violent jerk, lurching and spinning once before settling down into quiet the smooth four beat step of a horse walking.

Spock relaxed, shaking slightly with effort and slumped down against the base of his mind while the hoof beats continued in a slow, wide circle above him. The hybrid let the rhythm fill him from the top to bottom, let it take over as his subconscious rapidly stitched everything back together neatly and set it into the wake of the four beat pace. His breathing eased, slowing again to match the steps and outwardly he sensed Jim's breathing doing the same.

The hybrid let the shaking and trauma subside before pushing himself back up into his consciousness to take over setting things right. This was not going to be a true moment of meditation, this was a reconstruction. He'd had not realized how out of control things had become in his forced absence of consciousness. He would take this time to smooth over cracked and broken things and set them on the steady trail of hoof beats, put things in order. He would have to return to turn the information inside and out and ponder over it later.

This time was needed to tie things down against another storm. In a very distant corner of his mind, where the drum of hoof beats rose from, Spock glimpsed a shadow of a rolling back and arched neck, to faded and beyond to be deciphered clearly.

He turned his attention away and inward and started the careful process of knitting his mind into place, time crept by slowly and without real significance. The world outside, perhaps for the first time in his life, was completely outside of himself.

The steady four beat gait lurched suddenly in a buck and Spock's eyes snapped open.

The world vibrated as the long, lonely voice rose high in the mountains. Pitching and crying in a deep warble. As it fell and died a dozen more rose up in the spectral chorus that had haunted Spock from his first night at the ranch.

Spock jerked and scrambled back against the couch and pulled his knees up, wrapping arms protectively around them. He shook violently and shut his eyes against the voices.

"Spock?" Jim asked sharply and settled a hand on the hybrid's shoulder.

"I had believed that meditation would help my mind settle. Would assure me of my sanity." Spock rasped.

"Sanity?" Jim asked quietly and shifted closer until his knee was pressed into Spock's bicep. "What are you talking about 'sanity'?"

"I can still hear the voices."

"The voices." Jim pressed carefully.

"In the mountains. They're crying. Every night since I've stepped onto Native Sky earth." Spock carefully pulled his face away from the russet comforter and looked towards the slightly dulled down flames of the fire.

Jim made a small, unintelligible noise.

"Spock. Look at me." He commanded and dark chocolate eyes snapped around to meet cerulean. "You're not losing your mind. I can hear 'em too." Jim assured.

Spock narrowed his eyes.

"They're wolves, Spock. Those are just wolves. They always sing at night. Howling. That's how they talk to each other, find each other. They're singing."

Spock swallowed dryly. "Wolves."

"Just wolves. Probably the Lost Trail pack, maybe Rose Creek but that big one sounds like Hota, the alpha from Lost Trail." Jim assured. "Wolves. Singing wolves. Okay?"

Spock listened closely and shuddered slightly when one voice rose and pitched high above the others before falling again. Hota. "Yes."

"They're just wolves." Jim pressed again and let the pad of his thumb pass lightly against the side of Spock's throat as if pressing into the young hybrid his assurance and comfort that it was the truth.

Spock took a calming breath and let it out slowly, becoming aware that Situpsa, Anahme and Nemo A534 were all staring at him from behind Jim's legs. Over on the curly fur rug Canteska's head was cocked and ears pressed forward.

"C'mon. You've been under for a few hours and chow was ready half an and hour ago." Jim coaxed and stepped back so Spock could disentangle himself from the pile of blankets and use the sofa to pull himself upright to follow on Jim's heels with a small parade of canines and Anahme. Spock tilted his head and caught the slight scent of cooked vegetables and baked bread, his stomach turned and made a very small noise of appreciation.

"Cody has burdened herself on may sake?"

"You kidding? Cody _loves_ being the big sister. Don't believe her when she complains... for that matter you better not believe much of what any Chicalato says. They have a flare for dramatization. Especially if what they're saying has anything to do with family or food... or work. Or me. Or themselves concerning me. Themselves concerning each other-"

"Jim. I am accustomed to performing in depth research on cultures and customs in a limited amount of time for necessary and practical use."

The young blonde nodded and worked his jaw. "Alright, well... let me debrief on the Chicalatos and the Brotherhood."

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**A/N: Alright, another chapter down and a few little notes to follow. **

**First the Lakota Translations!!! Yay!**

**Anahme - Secret (is the name of the albino fawn and is so named by Miss Yasei Raiden because she HAD to know about the critter...)**

**Tante Tanka - tornado**

**Hota - Gray**

**Chicalato - Blue Colt**

**The book _Horsepower: A Memoir _is written by Annette Israel and is a book about the last years of a Belgian Draft horse's life with his last owner. I have not read this book but would very much like to...**

**Some major Spock and Nemo A534 love here, people seem to really like them together and I happen to enjoy indulging others so, yup, there you go. Some 'loving on the Superdog' time. **

**Anyway, adios for now, all. Much Love.**


	8. Chapter 8

**NOTE: Reminder for you guys that when Cody 'talks' it looks like _THIS_. Alright onward!**

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**Summary:_ "Got my brothers and sister, got one of my best friends..." Jim absently reached out and patted Spock's ankle through the denim and thermal clothing. "... my horses, my dogs, space to run like Hell if I want."_  
**

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**Lost Horse Creek, Montana**

"**When you are lonely, let me be your companion. When you are tired, let me carry the load. When you need to learn, let me teach you… after all, I am your horse."**

**-Unknown**

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**Chapter Eight: The Clan**

**"Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one."**

**- Jane Howard**

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_**Native Sky Ranch**_

_**124 Flathead Road,**_

_**Lost Horse Creek, Bitterroot Mountain Range, Rocky Mountains, Ravalli County, Montana**_

_**Stardate:2260**_

_**October 19**_

_**2143 Hours**_

"Damnit!"

Spock instinctively set his weight back and straightened his spine. Under him the roll of muscle and joints stalled and went still all together, the connection shuddering sharply to a halt and snapping.

Blue Moon sighed loudly and shifted nervously in place until Spock gently laid his hand against the base of the mare's mane. The temperamental paint tensed unhappily and actually flattened her ears before nickering agitatedly. Her shoulder jerked and twitched, the muscle rebelling against the weight of the hybrid's touch and layer of thin, cloth gloves between his finger tips and horseflesh.

Spock's union with Blue Moon was an unhappy and unsatisfying one for himself as much as it was the tobiano blue roan. She had not tried to consciously to unseat Sock, but she'd habitually kicked her heels, pinned her ears, tossed her head and kept her steps unbalanced and hitching. Making every cue and physical reaction built on a single, powerful message.

_Get. Off. Me._

They worked against each other, the will of their souls rubbing harshly against the other. Each pushing without give and with every moment the tension between them strengthened and sharpened into a cutting edge that as control started to spiral out could leave one or both of them severely wounded.

"Jim. I wish to dismount. Neither Blue Moon or I have accomplished a fulfilling partnership." Spock sighed and before Jim gave him a sign of approval Spock shifted his weight in warning, waited until Blue Moon tensed, then swung his leg over and dropped lightly to the dirt floor of the arena. Blue Moon snorted and immediately side stepped twice to put physical space between herself and Spock. Ears still pinned dark eyes narrowed with nostrils flared.

"Yeah, tell me. You guys looked like you were drunk out there." Jim snarled into the heels of his palms and scrubbed his face until the skin wrinkled and twisted around his cheeks and along the edges of his eyes. "This is not working..."

Spock tensed and next to him Blue Moon's flank tightened and her rear leg hunched slightly under her.

The young hybrid stood to his full height waiting for his judgment.

Nearly three full weeks had passed between Spock and Native Sky. The young hybrid had found himself settled and locked into a daily routine that was anything but steady. A series of chores and lessons, epiphanies and revelations. Regular, home cooked meals had built weight onto Spock's naturally lithe frame, hours of mucking out then bedding down stalls or throwing bales of hay for rotation made it lean fat and toned out muscle that had previously been left to natural development and relied simply on Vulcan strength. He'd learned the art of pulling fencing mesh tight and holding barbed wire taught against bucks and hitches. Holes dug for round, wood posts and thick layers of ice congested over night in standing water troughs made the weight of a shovel and an axe as familiar to Spock as a data pad or stylus. The lining of his pockets were gritty with the crumbs of horse treats and bits of hay that had worked their way in by chance. Strapped permanently to his right hip were a small KABAR knife and a walkie talkie styled communicator. The weight of a bucket filled to the brim with warm water was common. He handled halters and lead ropes, measured out medications and vitamin supplements, doled out scoops of grain and bran mash efficiently and easily as if he'd done the services for years not days. His habits were changing, adapting and molding to the new lifestyle; his physical body keeping the pace as well beyond the slight weight gain and new muscle definition.

His hair had grown some and started to become ragged around his ears, sensitive skin had become accustom to the weight and rough comfort of flannel and denim fabric. His core temperature now steady against the rapidly encroaching winter cold, lapsing only just in the dead of night. The muscles of Spock's hands now twitched in fluent sequences of elaborate signs, his throat hummed with the low, rolling timber of Lakota. The deep wound around his wrist had cleanly healed into a fine bracelet of pearled scar tissue. For the first time in a long time there was a constant level of ache and tiredness in his frame, a soreness that would settle as he slept and flare back into life in the pre dawn hours clouded with breath turned into vapor and the pale glow of the moon or lights of the stable barn. He'd become used to sleeping in a bed occupied by one hundred pounds of German Shepherd and occasionally an additional fifteen of the albino fawn. He listened with only some tension as Hota led the Lost Trail pack in song up on the mountain. He didn't flinch away when Cody absently and casually feathered her fingers through the growing lengths of his hair, scratching his scalp for a split second of silent affection. He now easily yielded to pressure when Jim's hands set on his shoulder or chest, nudging him backwards or to the side without words.

It was never the same, everyday new tasks rose, new lessons were pounded home with experience and change.

The only constant had been the two or more hours that Jim devoted to Spock in the enclosed arena when the day's work was done. Everyday as the sun sank towards the peaks of the mountains Jim paired Spock with one of his horses and turned them, bareback and bitless, into the loose dirt of the arena. The blonde keeping easy pace on foot while the basics of natural horsemanship were woven into Spock's manner and habits. He learned to used the slightest press of weight and shift of muscle as a cue and command, from himself to the horse or the horse to himself. He learned to keep his seat as easily as a smooth walk as he did a ambled lope. As his confidence grew with familiarity and experience Spock began to focus outside of himself, began to breath with the horse and lock his perception beyond his own being and sought out the brief and powerful connection of himself and the animal as a whole.

And failed.

Spock knew he was improving and becoming accustomed to the actions and reactions but there was none of the naturalness and true ease that Jim or Cody shared when they seated on any horse in the Native Sky herd. None of the casual unity that corded and sprung the muscles of Jim's arms and shoulders in tandem with the animal as if was Jim carrying their weight instead of the horse. He didn't pant in sync with the mount the way Cody did after a sudden sprint or long trot. He didn't dismount and feel the damp warmth of the horse's breath on his neck as it followed on his heels loyally, there was no head that slung out of the stall door when he walked into the stable barns and called to him specifically.

There was no single entity. No bond.

And every day that the connection remained unmade, Jim seemed to grow restless and frustrated and Spock waited for the blonde to pull him aside and, in his gentle way, tell Spock he was a poor horseman, that he had no business riding and should turn away from the practice all together.

The miserable, short lived attempt with Blue Moon seemed to have been the proverbial straw across Jim's back.

Spock stood ready for his rejection and suspension from the practice and kept his silence.

"We gotta get you a horse." Jim sighed and made a flick of his hand that Blue Moon nickered happily and stepped away from Spock to crowd at Jim's side and nose his jeans pocket.

It took a very long moment, in Vulcan standards, for Jim's statement to process and settle into the forefront of his thoughts.

"Pardon?"

"You need your own horse." Jim sighed and reached up a hand to press fingers into a small spasm of muscle near his eye. "You've completely plateaued."

"I..."

"Say it Spock." Jim pushed quietly.

"It has become somewhat... unenjoyable is not the correct term but from my observations I am... missing something."

"Yeah." Jim sighed and set his hands onto his hips. "Yeah, I know. You're going through the motions. It's mechanical. It's not supposed to be mechanical. You're right... you're not inside each other's heads. So we need to change that. Now. No. Not even now. It needed to change two weeks ago. I've just been putting you on horses at random just hoping... its... its not working. We gotta do something. Okay let's take a break for a couple days I'll make some calls, talk to some people I know and see what we find. We'll look around..."

He sighed and scrubbed at the back of his neck.

"At worst there's a couple sales and auctions in the next week. We'll hit those."

Spock felt a pang jerk sharply in the hollow of his chest at Jim suggestion of postponing working in the arena but swallowed it.

"While the suggestion is probably the correct resolution for the stagnation of my horsemanship it is not logical to purchase an animal at this time."

Jim lifted an eyebrow at him, inviting him silently to continue his explanation.

"A horse owned personally requires an amount of contact, responsibility and devotion that I will not be able to provide. We are to return to the _Enterprise_ in mid February. Possibly to deploy for five years in deep space. The attainment of a horse at this time, with limited personal experience and time with extended absence afterwards would not be fair to myself or the animal. Not to take into account if the purchase of an animal did come to pass the requirements to keep the animal in my absence."

Jim's lips quirked slightly and he loosely folded his arms across his chest.

"Very logical Spock." The blonde conceded. "But here's the thing. And this matters the most, so go with me."

Spock dropped his head slightly.

"Do you want it?"

Spock hesitated.

"You want what Wolfie and I got? What Cody's got with Blackbird?"

"Yes." Spock admitted quietly.

"Well..." Jim shrugged one shoulder. "You need a horse for that. Look, I get what you're saying but just don't worry about it for right now. We'll see what happens, it'll all work out."

Spock narrowed his eyes slightly before working off the cloth gloves and sliding his fingertips into his jeans pockets.

"Acceptance of this assurance does not supersede the notion of 'taking a break'. I wish to continue my lessons. Perhaps with Hornet, we are fairly compatible."

Jim sighed but there was a look of approval at the edge of his eyes.

"Can't, not now, with the cold and wet coming in he's losing his wind, his lungs are still scarred from the pneumonia. I'll put you up on Cody's big sorrel. Jeepers Creepers. You got along with him alright."

Jeepers Creeprs, a sixteen hand Quarter Horse, was one of Cody's more seasoned and professional roping horses and had once been named Red Bird until an accident with the roping pen gate had left the gelding scarred along his chest, neck and his face frighteningly disfigured. The gelding didn't enter the roping pen for a full year... then promptly won Individual Roping National Champion with Cody in his comeback season.

Spock dipped his head in agreement and dug his hands deeper into his pockets, feeling the crumbles of horse treat in his pockets.

The blonde snorted and dug the heel of his hand into his eye socket for a moment before giving a feeble jerk of his head towards the door that connected the arena to the tack and trophy room then out into the stable barn.

"We might as well hit it, Spock. We gotta be on the road by one. Creek's transport gets in at six." Jim sounded exhausted just mentioning. They'd spent the majority of the last three days scrubbing the ranch home top to bottom, pulling out stored sheets, pillows and blankets and setting up the other guest rooms in the house in preparation for the arrival of the Chicalato Brotherhood and their assorted consorts and offspring. The added tasks were tacked on to the already heavy work load of keeping up the ranch and livestock itself.

There was a tension in the ranch and more than once Jim had suffered a sharp box to an ear or Cody a glare of pure ice. The dogs were snapping at each other and the normally easy going horses were pinning their ears and kicking more feeling the heat of agitation radiating from Cody and Jim. Not to mention that the less calm and collected horses were near explosive. Spock had never seen such a reaction at the arrival of familial relations before. The hybrid suspected it was due to the timeline that was expected for the first day.

As was tradition for the siblings, the Brotherhood did everything together. Four different transports staggered through the day were going to arrive at Missoula International, a three and a half hour drive from the ranch.

Essentially Cody, Jim and himself, on top of rushing through their morning chores and routine, were going to spend the entire day in a crowded, noisy depot. A drastic habitat change from the peaceful and isolated pastures and paddocks of the last three weeks.

"You want to sleep or meditate?" Jim asked as they fell into step across the arena towards the exit with Blue Moon ambling on Jim's heels.

"As you have made yourself very clear that the decimal level of noise within the house hold will rise dramatically in the next sixteen hours perhaps it would be prudent to seize the opportunity of quiet for meditation."

"In the den?"

"If it pleases you."

Jim shrugged a shoulder and slid his hands into his jeans pockets, mimicking Spock easily as they crossed from the dirt to nicked and scarred hardwood then back into the packed dirt of the stable aisle. Spock stood back as Jim led Blue Moon over to a stall she shared with a heavily pregnant chocolate furred mare named Claybasket that incidentally belonged to Creek, the only other Brotherhood sibling that owned horses. All three; Claybasket, a chestnut tobiano gelding named Digger and a bay roan filly dubbed Brontosaurus were boarded with Cody at Native Sky.

Spock pulled his corduroy jacket a little closer to his frame and waited until Jim was back into step alongside him. They followed the line of stalls and slid the massive double barn doors shut in tandem, meeting back in the center to walk out across the yard, climb the steps and cross the porch into the kitchen. Jim stood back, holding the door open for Spock and followed on his heels, greeted by Nemo A534 as they entered and stripped off jackets to drape over the backs of chairs, unlaced and kicked off their boots into the mud room.

Jim lifted his arms high over his head, arched his back and let it pop softly with a groan of bone and muscle.

Spock waited patiently for Jim at the entrance from the kitchen and walked a step ahead through the main living room, across the entrance hall and into the den. As had become typical of the last three weeks a small fire had already blossomed to life in the hearth and an assortment of firewood waited to be added. Spock meticulously avoided the curly furred rug to take up his normal place centered across from the fireplace, back pressed against the base of the sofa. Jim moved to toss several split logs onto the growing flame before dropping himself casually into his typical corner of the sofa at Spock's left shoulder.

A slight cast of his attention towards the blonde caught the movement of Jim lifting a book from its splayed position over the arm of the chair. This was one of Jim's many habits that had not manifested on the iEnterprise. The young man casually picked up and started reading a book at random and would just as casually abandon or set aside the manuscript, leaving it draped over the arm of a chair or sofa or with a scrap of paper as a marker and left them stacked at the edge of the table in the kitchen or the counter top. Once Spock found one carefully stood on its end and fanned on the counter next to the sink in the bathroom he shared with the blonde.

There was no sign of Cody but a soft series of groans and creaks of the old wood of the house gave away that she was most likely still working on the attic space.

By tradition the attic was considered a kind of playroom and fort for the youngest generation of the Chicalato family and once the arrival of the youngsters quickly became 'no grownups allowed' until they departed again. Spock had lent his strength to move storage boxes around behind secured mesh dividers, unroll a massive area rug that depicted a picture of a wildflower field and small heard of horses and toss around massive, denim sacks filled with small plastic pellets that were supposed to serve as some kind of furniture. 'Bean-bags' Jim said as he'd dropped belly first onto one with a grunt and had casually dozed on it while Spock was enlisted to help hang strings of decorative white lights.

Cody was probably making sure of its safety one last time. Jim had called it 'fidgeting', Cody's continued and repetitive completion of already finished tasks, it seemed an illogical practice but Spock would concede that it was possibly within necessary parameters. He'd come to understand, with experience and observation, that much of what the petite rancher did was illogical but sensible and beneficial.

Spock drew his attention back to the present as Nemo A534 stepped quietly into the room and vaulted up to drape himself across Jim's legs to settle in for a nap, shifting around a little until the dog's hip was pressed purposefully against the back of Spock's shoulder and neck. Jim threaded his fingers in the dog's fur and stroked his ears as he settled into the book that lacked the gold leaf lettering of a title.

Spock turned his eyes towards the flames and settled his frame into his well practiced meditation stance, sitting up and away from physical contact with Nemo A534 but still remained close enough to feel the heat of the dog and blonde's bodies at his back. He let his eyes slide shut. It took some effort to pull away from his physical body and fall into the tempo and rhythm of the hoofbeats that he was still molding his mental reconstruction around.

Off in the corner of his mind the rounded back and arched neck of shadow paced easily in a spectral ring, the ebb and flow of his memories and thoughts knit in uniform prints in its wake. Spock listened to the repeated tempo for a moment, syncing himself with the beat before turning to work and sift through his still, slightly ragged edged thread of his mind, smoothing and sorting them out into the right pattern and set them afloat to follow in the wake.

Spock stroked and wove the threads as easily as he played the lyre of his childhood, creating intricate patterns without true concentration and design. The threads slid through his fingers like water, each easily recognizable as a part of the whole.

"Spock... hey... c'mon."

Jim's voice was thick and grit with sleep or lack thereof, a light hand settling on his shoulder for a small shake before pulling back. Spock opened his eyes slowly, feeling his body shivering slightly and looked beyond Jim into the hearth and saw the hearth was filled with ash and cooling rapidly.

Jim was scrubbing the heel of his palm into one eye and trying to stifle a yawn. His cerulean eyes half lidded and dulled.

"Jim."

"C'mon. Cody was really nice and did everything herself and let us sleep... or meditate... whatever... it's a quarter to one." Jim moved away and started towards the stairs that led up to the second floor. Spock pushed himself up, shaking off the edge of cold as best he could before heading towards his guest room.

"Hey."

The hybrid tilted his head back and looked up to where Spock was standing halfway up the stairwell.

"Cody threw all your stuff in the laundry. Who knows when you'll get another shot at it. She's turning it over right now."

Spock looked down at his clothing, slightly dusty and flecked with straw. A large streak of saliva and chewed vegetation traced the line of his hip where a horse had 'greened' him during the evening feed.

"I'll let you wear some of my stuff until it's done. Let's go." Jim motioned him to follow and started up the rest of the stairs. Spock hesitated a moment before following the blonde up into his room. Spock had not ventured into the space since the first week and it looked much the same save there was a new level of disorganization that came with being lived in.

As Jim walked he pulled the layers of shirts over his head and absently dumped them into the wicker hamper basket. It left his torso bare save for two distinctive landmarks.

Around his neck was the collar necklace of horse hair and silver beads, the pendant centered at his throat drew Spock's focus and fascination again. The quartered circle, each segment a different color; black and red, white and yellow, rose and fell as the blonde yawned and breathed. The hybrid continued to look before resolutely moving away to the flat plane of Jim's right shoulder blade.

Spock's eyes traced over the curved, deep lines of the tribal tattoo he'd glimpsed from time to time. The image inked into Jim's skin in black, indigo and cerulean blue accented with silver. The curved arches and sharp spikes of the tribal work swept around the stylized image of the leaping horse. Neck arched and fore hooves tucked tightly under the chest mid vault. It was first time that Spock had a chance to really look at the tattoo.

He was not entirely surprised to see, on thorough inspection, that the horse sported blue eyes and carefully inked irregular shapes of white along the horse's sides in the distinct pattern of an overo paint horse.

"I got some stuff that's a size too big that'll fit you." He muttered, scrubbing his face and hair and moved towards the chest of drawers, tugging them open and rummaging a little before finding a white long sleeve shirt and pulled it over his head, then rooted out another and twisted to hand it off to the hybrid.

Spock accepted the white shirt but held off for the rest of an offering before replacing his dirtied clothing. The hybrid moved to the desk where a few metal tins stood open, filled to the brim with fine metal, glass and bone beads of different sizes and colors. There was a thick coil of black horse hair and a fair bit pulled out into what looked like a collar necklace mid progress. The quartered circle pendant was already in place at the center as the hair around it was strung with four stacked rows of first small circular glass beads of dark green then long beads of a chocolate colored metal and the pattern repeated. Spock set the shirt aside and, careful to keep the ends held to prevent the beads from sliding free, lifted the necklace and pendant to inspect closely.

"Alright... here's one. _Riverside Police Department_, I was there so many times they decided to give me a souvenir... eh. I better wear this one. Don't want to seem like you're trying to hard with the guys. This one's better, _Varsity Muck Team_. See? It's got the little bucket and shovel... pitchfork." Jim turned holding up the rust colored shirt and froze, staring at Spock's hands and the necklace perched gingerly in his palm.

"This symbol is identical to the one you wear."

"Oh... you're, uh... you're not supposed to see that yet."

Spock narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Its, uh... it's a medicine wheel. A symbol of unity. Day, night, the seasons, the elements. It means balance of family, world, life and self." Jim was clearly holding himself still with purpose, probably trying to prevent himself from fidgeting.

"Yet." Spock pressed quietly.

"Yeah... I was... I was making it in case maybe... you..." Jim took a breath before looked Spock, almost defiantly in the eye. "In case you wanted to be a part of the Brotherhood. We all wear one. A medicine wheel. For the tribe and for ourselves."

Spock lifted an eyebrow and cocked his head. "An... induction into the Brotherhood."

"Yeah. It's... look, Spock... everyone that's ever cared about me enough to get mad enough to punch me when I almost die is in the Brotherhood. Everyone that bothers to tease me, torture me, make my life a living Hell then fight for me... everyone that's saved my life by beating the Hell outta me, they're all Brotherhood... Cody, the brothers, Bones... I thou-hoped... might want-"

"It would be an honor to be accepted among the Brotherhood you hold in such high esteem." Spock interjected and Jim's eyes snapped up, searching the hybrid for some kind of deception.

"Seriously?" He asked at length.

"Indeed."

Jim let out a breath that came with a kind of near hysterical laugh. "Okay... um... when Bones gets in we'll put it on the table. Alright?"

Spock nodded and gently set the half finished necklace back on its place in the center of the desk. It was a difficult task, Spock was reluctant to part with the object. The delicate and carefully woven knots and braids networked the beads together, creating a design within the main design. There was a symmetrical, geometric beauty that was reminisce of some of the great works done by Vulcan artists. The sudden attachment to the necklace was strange and somewhat worrisome to Spock, Vulcans did not retain ties or bind significance to objects and possessions. Objects had uses and performed tasks at will, they didn't hold sentimentalities or memories. Objects could be destroyed and replaced with only the loss of monetary resource.

The unfinished necklace wasn't even truly in Spock's possession... yet. It was promised him, his made by Jim's hand and a symbol beyond the medicine wheel itself. Spock's touch lingered, rolling the coarse horse hair between the pads of his fingers.

"It's made from Wolfie's tail."

_Yellow Wolf's hair. _

Spock pulled his hand back with a effort. "It is exquisitely crafted."

"Thanks, Spock. I never was really good at braiding, weave work and stuff like that." Jim shrugged one shoulder and offered the tee shirt again and waited until Spock took the printed tee before pulling the dark blue one over his long sleeve and turned towards the closet and started pushing through the hung garments.

"The practice was something you learned in the company of the Chicalato family?"

"Kinda. The brothers or Cody would learn it then come home and teach me and eventually Ben and _Ina_ Citlali got sick of catching me doing their stuff for 'em, so they convinced my mom to let me go to the tribal classes. I was probably the only Arian kid in Iowa walking around with Raven feathers and horse bone beads in my hair, speaking Lakota instead of Terran."

"Did it pose difficulties with your socialization?" Spock asked, while Jim's back was turned quickly stripped off his dirtied shirts and replaced them with the clean ones before the cold could take hold. He smoothed the _Varsity Muck Team_ shirt into place and pulled the long sleeves underneath into place at his wrists.

"A little." Jim muttered evasively and reached into the closet to pull out a chocolate colored hooded sweatshirt, tugging it off the hanger and fiddling with it. It was a very large garment, the front of it split by a zipper that ran through the pocket. "You like this?"

He held up the sweatshirt to expose the front, in fine white and pale green embroidered letters was the series AQHA on the right chest. He turned it and exposed the back. In the same white and pale green embroidery were the words _American Quarter Horse Association; est. 1940; Fort Worth. TX _under the image of a white horse.

"It possesses an appeal." Spock agreed.

"Awesome, you can have it." Jim tossed it to him, Spock easily caught the garment and unzipped it and slid it into position without hesitation, adding another layer against the cold.

"That is unnecessary. I will return it after appropriate cleaning." The hybrid protested as he zipped the over sized hooded sweatshirt into place.

"Its yours. I have one that's got a sorrel one that I like better and I wear my APHA one more than anything."

Jim pulled the mentioned garment from the closet and pulled it into place. The fabric was pale blue, embroidered in brown and white similarly to the Quarter Horse one. APHA on the chest but an elaborate design on the back sported the words _American Paint Horse Association; It's Not Paint, It's Chrome_ arched around the image of a chestnut overo Paint mid gallop. Spock had seen the particular garment approximately two hundred and thirteen times in the last month. Only once was it not actually being worn by Jim.

The blonde rooted into a top drawer and came up with two rolls of thick white socks and passed one over as he dropped unceremoniously to the floor to yank off the pair he wore and replaced them. Spock sat with more dignity on the edge of Jim's bed to do the same. Jim glanced at his watch before scrambling up. "We gotta go."

Spock followed closely on Jim's heels, down the stairs and into the kitchen where Cody was absently pouring dry cereal into bowls quickly followed by soy milk. At their scramble the dogs started to rush around, Nemo A534 trying to follow on Jim and Spock's heels at the same time while Situpsa woofed softly from the pillow in the corner and Wagi tried to stay on Jim's heels while avoiding Spock and snapping at Nemo A534 at the same time.

Cody caught all the movement from the corner of her eyes as Jim rushed Spock into his boots as he laced his own. She was dressed in a pair of light jeans and sneakers. She wore a russet zip front hooded sweatshirt that was embroidered in tan, brown, red and white the logo Spock had learned stood for the Native Sky Ranch and the Chicalato family line of equestrians.

The image was an alteration and adoption of the medicine wheel, the colors chocolate, white, red and tawny, a pair of stylized Red Tail Hawk feathers and the cloud with the letters NSR of the livestock brand was centered in the wheel. On either side, facing the brand and feathers was a chestnut horse, one an overo Paint and the other a blanket Appaloosa. The words _Native Sky Ranch; Lost Horse Creek, Montana; 406. 258.2658_ stitched into place under the logo. When she turned Spock saw on the right chest was the cloud NSR brand and a single Red Tail feather.

Jim possessed an identical hooded sweatshirt but had only worn it once in front of Spock.

Cody's silver streaked, cinnamon hair was tied up in a high pony tail and around her throat, just visible was her own medicine wheel necklace on dark horse hair. The colors matched the Native Sky version and the beads were assorted browns and reds. On a fine silver chain was a small silver medallion that Spock could not make the image out completely.

Both necklaces had previously remained tucked out of sight under Cody's shirts.

The petite rancher carried the bowls of cereal to the table were Jim choked through his and Spock ate slowly. Other than a few, simple signs about the trucks warming in the drive, there was no conversation as Cody over filled the dog's water and food bowls to last the day locked indoors. The clank of spoons against ceramic and thirty two minutes passed the one AM mark announced a need to depart. They shrugged into jackets and shut off lights with a soft jingle of keys, travel mugs of coffee and tea in hand, and rushed out to the drive.

"You riding with me, Spock?" Jim asked and the hybrid nodded. "We're in the Durango."

Jim jogged towards the russet colored sports utility vehicle. A machine made by an American distributor still in business. The Dodge Durango that Cody owned was an antique, late twenty first century. As was the Dodge Ram Big Horn that Cody was climbing into. The much larger work truck of sand colored paint rumbled and growled like a bear next to the quiet hum of the Durango. Spock watched for a moment as the petite rancher hauled her small shape up into the massive truck and swung the door shut with a thud.

"Spock! Let's go!" Jim barked and Spock slid into the passenger seat of the Durango, the warmth within the vehicle was welcome as Spock slid his safety belt into place, settled back against his seat and curled up a little around his core until the warmth broke through the frigid chill lingering from the short trek to kitchen to vehicle.

He was somewhat unsettled by being confined to the vehicle that ran on a hybrid fuel system but Jim seemed at ease and Spock would for the moment reserve further reaction in observation of Jim's behavior. He watched the work truck dig into the dirt and roll slowly out of place and start towards the long drive, the pitch dark of the night split under the white and red of head and break lights, Jim pulled into uniform behind the truck and followed at the same slow pace, keeping one hand on the wheel while the other fidgeted with a panel of controls on the dash. The heat flowing from the vents pitched upwards and strengthened. The small space was filled with a soft, low tones of some kind of Terran music that changed with a few taps of Jim's hand until it settled on a frequency and genre commonly known as classic rock. Spock turned his attention outwards, watching the ranch fall behind. At the end of the long drive, Jim stopped and quickly bailed out of the Durango, rushing around to pull a pipe fencing gate closed and chaining it into place. The blonde dove back into his place at the driver's wheel and fell back into line behind Cody and the Ram.

A few minutes of rolling slowly through the streets of Darby the Ram and Druango steered out onto State Highway 93 and picked up speed. In a matter of minutes the feral landscape became a kind of blur as Jim peaked at seventy some odd miles per hour, keeping pace with the truck leading them.

"Spock, you can take a nap if you want. We've got three hours." The blonde had slumped back into the driver's seat and was lax and lazy eyed, driving with one hand on the wheel and the other drifting from his royal blue travel mug or back to rest lightly on his hip or thigh. One heel tapping agitatedly at being confined, the other moving to pilot the gas and break pedals.

"I am sufficiently rested." Spock pulled one hand from the front pocket of the AQHA hooded sweatshirt and lightly lifted his tea to his lips and sipped delicately.

"I guess five hours of meditation can do that." Jim's lips quirked and he tilted his head towards Spock for a moment but kept his eyes on the road. "Want to go over the brothers?"

"If you find it necessary." Spock said indifferently and sipped at his tea again. Jim had been drilling Spock on the general information concerning the Chicalato brothers for the last few weeks.

"Alright... Casper."

"The second eldest, is often mistaken as the dominant sibling. Casper was an active, enlisted Marine, Three/Five Echo Company, for eight years and exited as a decorated officer. He returned to schooling, obtained a degree in Fire Sciences and had worked for the fire department in Sioux Falls, Minnesota for twelve years. He is currently considered for position of Battalion Chief. Casper is married to a Cree Nation woman named Marie and in tradition of the Chicalato family his children are all named with the same beginning letter as the female consort's name. There are three, Maza, Magazu and Matoha. He has a pet cactus plant from his childhood named Pokey that is almost thirty years old."

Jim chuckled. "Pokey... Casper almost killed me for watering Pokey once. Cikala."

"Cikala is the youngest brother. Active, enlisted Marine, Four/Six Delta Company for twelve years. He was in a position of Military Police. On exiting he received training and position as a Narcotics Police Officer in Elgin then Chicago, Illinois. He still holds the position though it is uncommon for a Narcotics officer to remain in the department for more than five years. He is married to another of the Lakota Nation, Tessa and has a daughter named Toweya. Before he enlisted Cikala was you 'team' partner for several events in rodeo, including penning and roping. Though you scored higher and performed better when working with Cody."

Jim dipped his head. "Cokata."

"Cokata is the middle child. Active enlisted Marine for eight years, Two/Five Delta Company. He was also Military Police and Internal Investigations. Exiting he turned to law enforcement and worked for the Special Victims and Juvenile Unit of the Tacoma, Washington department before he was wounded in action and forced to retire. Shortly after he obtained a degree in law and is a practicing lawyer in Tacoma and Seattle. His cases are normally criminal and associtated with Special Victims thought he is known to take Family Court cases, pro bono. He is mated to an Aenar immigrant from Andor named Soli and they have a hybrid daughter, Suri."

"Cokata has got to be one of the _strongest_ human beings I know. If I've been dealing with the stuff he handles... with a kid." Jim made a small noise that sounded like a growl. "I'd be killing people."

The name Cokata Chicalato was not entirely new to Spock, though before it had not held significance. A year prior Spock had briefly read a news comm about a Terran council trying to impress a Federation wide series of laws and regulations concerning the treatment of children and younglings and what was specifically detailed as 'endangerment' and 'abuse'. Cokata's name had been on a list of the council and marked as one of the most outspoken.

The details of the laws were still being hammered out and protested by more... aggressive species of the Federation.

"Creek."

"At the age of nine Creek was diagnosed with Aspergers Syndrome. A type of functioning autism that results in stunted growth and ability to interact socially or show empathy towards peers but typical of having restricted and repetitive focuses of interests that are often manifested with extreme intelligence. Creek's focuses are sciences and arts. Active Marine, Three/Five Alpha Company for four years with a sciences department. Shortly after discharge he returned to upper education schooling, he paid for his classes by working as a tattoo artist and upon graduation he claimed three Masters and PHDs in Paleontology, Archeology and Anthropology. His current project is an excavation of dinosaurian finds in northern Australia though he lives in Cottonwood, Arizona and co-owns a traditional tattoo parlor in Sedona."

Jim's lips quirked up slightly.

"You have also come to the conclusion that Creek and I will form a friendship."

"Yeah. I think you'll get along like birds in a bush... or try and kill each other with discredits and words most of us can't pronounce."

"Indeed." Spock sipped from his tea, set it back into the cup holder and tucked his hand back into the warmth of the front pocket, curled against his stomach. The pair settled into silence, enjoying it 'while it lasted' as Jim would say. Spock was having some difficulty considering a ranch, pastures and paddocks, arena and barn, ruptured by the noise of four different familial units occupying the limited space.

"Jim, I wish to venture into tacked riding."

The blonde's lips quirked slightly. "Want to sit in a saddle huh?"

"Yes."

Jim hummed quietly. "I have a synthetic one in the tack room... let's talk about it."

The three hours of the ride slipped by and gave way to the dull glow of Missoula on the horizon. the light bled further into the sky and blossomed, brightening. Their conversation drifted off as Jim focused on following Cody through a network of bright lights, terminal instructions and circle drives on Missoula International. They eased passed locally operated and personal transports, a few vehicles similar to the Ram and Durango scattered here and there. Spock focused his attention outwards, observing people, most humans, interacting on the sidewalk along the terminal. They were bundled up and talking with faces split into grins or eyes lined with tears of loss and departure.

The Ram and Durango pulled away and eased carefully into a paved parking area that was only occupied by a few other vehicles and a stray baggage cart grinding across the lot alone. Jim cut the engine and bailed out. Spock unlatched his seat belt and followed. As he shut the door the Ram and Durgano gave identical beeps and flashes of light. Spock blinked over his shoulder until he recognized Cody's sharp whistle and broke into a long lope to catch up with Jim and the petite rancher several yards a head. The trio dashed across slow moving traffic and ducked into the dry warmth of the terminal. Spock breathed a little easier in the heat and shifted his corduroy jacket over the AQHA sweatshirt to loosen and let the warmer climate settle into his joints.

Cody glanced around before taking a slight lead, Spock and Jim falling in behind her. The corridors were relatively empty. A few greeters and those left behind wandering out, eyes flitting to arrival and departure boards.

The terminal was older, shaped like a horse shoe with two levels and a basement; rounded pillars holding up the ceiling. Barriers were thick steel supports framing glass. Rows of chairs and benches were scattered through throughout the space. The paint was the same casual tan, brown and white of most terminals across the lower forty eight. Vid screens mounted along the walls flickered through images of different vacation locations and the latest models of personal and recreational transport.

Jim and Spock followed dutifully on Cody's heels. After a few moments Cody stalled out, her face twisted with worry and she spun on her heel in a full three hundred and sixty degrees, her eyes flashed across the screens around them. Her hands made a few quick passes in the air, a short tangle of signs.

_**It said 226.**_

"Twenty two six?" Jim asked sharply, his hands jerking in sign. "I thought it was six twenty two."

Cody made a face. _**They told me 226.**_

"Did you write it down?" Jim growled and motioned sharply. "Write _any_ of them down?"

_**Why would I write it down? I know what they told me!**_

"'Cause you're not the best when it comes to numbers." Jim sighed and tugged at his hair. "What was the transport's designation?"

_**Why would I want the designation when I had the numbers?**_

"Sonova..." Jim strode over to a wall mounted communications unit and deftly accessed the scheduling logs. Spock and an agitated Cody moved in. "Damnit it all. There's four different ones coming in at the same time from Australia. One's at Dock One and the other three as Seven, Ten and Eleven on the far end."

"Considering then it would be prudent to make way to Docks Seven, Ten and Eleven, as the cluster will provide the best chance numerically of encountering Creek's arrival." Spock untucked his hands from the front pocket of the hooded sweatshirt and signed out his words for Cody.

Jim shrugged and Cody gave a jerk of one of her own shoulders.

"Alright, we'll go with odds and see if they don't override the norms of Chicalato luck." Jim agreed and started towards the far end of the terminal, Cody trotting to keep up with Jim's long stride and Spock matching steps with the blonde.

"First transport hits dirt at five forty five so we've got..." Jim glanced at a chronometer as they passed. "Three minutes! Move! Let's go!" Jim broke into a loping run. The change in pace startled Cody slightly, having missed Jim's reasoning. Spock stalled from taking off at Jim's heels, waiting for cody to recover and rushed to follow. Spock fell into easy pace with the petite rancher, following in Jim's wake.

They dashed around the curve of the terminal, sidestepping to avoid running into anyone lingering in the corridor.

Rounding the last curve the auditory decimals sky rocketed and Jim skidded to a halt, Cody and Spock checking their pace in tandem.

"Damnit." The blonde puffed and clawed through his hair.

The corridor was crowded and bustling with movement as dozens of arrivals were reunited with family and baggage. The sound of chattering humans and a few xenological species was near deafening for only the six hour of the day. It was somewhat of a shock after the peace and silence that accompanied Jim and Cody's company.

The crowd was thick and moving awkwardly in cluttered groups. There was a hesitation, Jim glancing at Cody then Spock before carefully starting forward into the crowd.

"Creek!" Jim called over the din, a few people looked sideways at him and moved out of the way. "Creek!"

Spock fell into step behind Cody, keeping close through the trail cut by the blonde. Cody's head was on a swivel, scanning for her younger brother. Spock tucked his hands deeply into the pockets of his hooded sweatshirt and shrugged his corduroy jacket closer to his frame, somewhat thankful of the thick layers and protection against the slight bumps and collisions made as they worked through the people.

"Creek! _Mos ognake sni wayate niye , _Mniohlateinyan! Creek!" Jim sighed and gently nudged a kissing couple aside towards a small gap in the crowd. Spock moved close to Jim's side as Cody closed their small circle, still twisting and looking around for her brother in the thick of humanity.

"He must be back at Dock One." Jim sighed, setting his hands on his hips and snorting through his nose. "Figures."

"This is a display of 'Chicalato luck'?" Spock inquired.

"Something like th-"

"_Hoksilato_!"

Jim's head snapped around so hard it looked like he'd get a crick in his neck. "Mniohlateinyan! Creek!"

"_Lel_ Hoksilato!" The rumbled tenor of a voice cut through the din. Jim turned towards the voice as best he could, seeing his attention turned Cody followed Jim's eye line and her face split into a grin. The crowd gave way some and a tall, solid frame broke free and started towards them.

Doctor Creek Chicalato was a little under Jim's height, just a few inches. His skin was tawny and tanned, discolored here and there with scars but generally an aesthetically pleasing male. He had a solid, square jaw though there was a softness in his face; his entire frame was lean and corded muscle. Eyes a dark brown lit with intelligence and introspection, his hair was ink black, and reflected in the light in a way that was kin to raven feathers. It was long and tied back in a pony tail at the base of his neck.

Dressed in a pair of desert digital camos, tawny combat boots and a black long sleeve shirt under a worn khaki jacket. His wrist bore a large watch and around his throat was the collar necklace of beads and medicine wheel pendant, the wheel's colors were brown, crème, white and black instead of the standard color of Jim's, the beads similar tones.

He moved smoothly, a steady easy walk though he was weighted down by a large tan canvas duffle slung across his chest, a similar backpack looped over one shoulder and a acoustic guitar over the other. The man looked as if he was covered in a thin, permanent layer of red dust, dried mud dotted on his boots and edge of his pants legs and he looked out of place, more at home in a excavation site.

His lips were a thin line until his eyes fell on Cody and Jim then they quirked up in a slight smile.

The petite rancher bolted forward, cutting the distance in quick strides, giving the man a moment to slide his baggage off his shoulders and to the floor before Cody leaped onto him, wrapping arms around his throat and legs around his waist. Creek smiled into her neck and squeezed tightly back.

Jim bounded forward like an over large puppy, making small noises of joy low in his throat and as Cody stepped back pounced on Creek with a bark.

Spock stiffened and the crowd backed off with sharp noises of alarm as Jim and Creek tumbled to the floor in a tangle of limbs and soft noises rippling from Jim that sounded like growls. They landed light blows on each other, rolling and pinning, wrenching away to pin again. Cody stood back with a silent grin and her eyes brimmed with affection. She turned her attention away and made a small twitch of her hand, motioning for Spock to move in closer, to join them. Hesitating, eyes flicking to the doggish mass of Jim and Creek still wrestling on the floor, only for a moment before Spock moved in to flank Cody in time to watch Jim roughly push Creek away and recline on the floor panting as Creek pushed himself up and smoothed down his clothes.

The doctor was barely out of breath and in a matter of seconds had composed himself.

"_Lila waste el wayate niya, ciyewaye ki_." Jim panted and awkwardly pushed himself up to his feet.

"_Niye el_, Hoksilato." Creek rumbled calmly then spoke in a smooth refined tone, dropping easily into a near monotone Terran and his hands sliding into the easy forms of sign. "Three years is far too long between visitations. It will be very difficult when you are deployed into deep space."

"Thanks for reminding me about the whole estrangement thing there, Creek." Jim sighed with a lopsided grin and hoisted the large duffle bag over his own shoulder.

"It was a voluntary estrangement, Jim. You enlisted by choice, not by draft. Though your choice may have been influenced by mild intoxication, results from both consumption of alcohol and a bar brawl that resulted in feeling 'punch drunk'; as well as being baited by a crew mate of your father's." Creek cocked his head and sounded very much like a Vulcan youngling that had not encountered humanity before.

"God. Now there's two of 'em..." Jim muttered, casting his eyes towards Spock and giving him a slight wink of assurance that it was all in good play. "Bones is going to freak."

"Two of what?" Creek asked before glancing around and catching sight of Spock for the first time. The doctor's head cocked slightly.

"I believe Jim is referring to the similarities between your behavior and mannerisms to my own, Doctor Chicalato. I must agree that you act and react to stimuli in a fashion similar to a Vulcan." The hybrid stated calmly and lifted his chin just slightly, his own hands moving fluidly in signs and symbols for each word. "Though he means no persecution by the observation."

"Of course." Creek responded promptly with a tip of his head. "You are Commander S'chn T'gai Spock?"

"Remarkable." Spock blinked. "It is exceedingly difficult for humans to produce the correct phonic functions necessary for Vulcan language, yet you've done the task exceedingly well."

"_Pilamaye_. Thank you, Commander."

"Spock will suffice, Doctor."

"Creek."

"Very well. I conclude that you familiarity with my personage is through Jim."

"Yes." Creek responded and twisted sideways to look towards Jim and Cody who were watching the exchange with bemused quirks of their lips. Creek paused in his signing to lift his backpack back onto his shoulder and the guitar across his chest, the doctor remained silent until his hands were free to continue signing his words. "Jim speaks often of you, both in frustration and affection. He's quite fond of you-"

"There's a lounge over there, let's go sit, huh?" Jim interrupted loudly and jerked his head towards one of the spaces enclosed by framework glass walls and packed with lines of connected chairs. The blonde gently nudged Spock towards the lounge before reaching back to grab Cody's arm and tugging her along behind. Cody sent a small grin and eye roll back at Creek as the doctor fell into step behind them.

The small group settled themselves into a set of four chairs facing each other. The warmth in the room high enough that Spock shed his own jacket along with the other three and set it neatly aside while the two suede and fleece and one khaki were tossed over the small pile of Creek's duffle and backpack. The doctor lightly set the guitar into his lap and absently stroked the strings in a gentle, toned thrum of vibration and noise that made Spock go still to listen.

"How was Australia, Creek?" Jim pressed as he slumped into the seat across from Creek. His hands lifted and twitching out his words for Cody to read. Creek didn't pull his hands away from the guitar when he spoke, letting Cody read his lips, though the doctor kept one eye turned in his elder sister's direction.

"Arid." Creek said simply and honestly. "I have brought a few customary gifts for everyone."

Creek passed the guitar to Jim and pulled his backpack towards himself and pulled it open, he rummaged into the pack and drew out a large bundle of cloth that was as dusty and careworn as the doctor himself. Creek gingerly unfolded the cloth and settled it carefully on his lap, exposing an assortment of different objects bundled in handkerchiefs. Creek lifted a small blue cloth and unwrapped it.

The object revealed to a wide, heavy bracelet of carved beads of alternating material of bone and a stone of beautiful layers of blue tones and whites, the beads were strung on a thick, tightly woven coarse hair that Spock recognized as some kind of horse.

"At the edge of our dig site we unearthed a few unfossilized bones. DNA mapping proved they were equine several hundred years old. My hypothesis is that as some point a Brumby or other feral horse died on the site and was buried under a landslide that occurred around the late nineteen century in the area. I used what pieces of bone that were suitable, pieces of native blue banded agate and Brumby tail hair to construct this for you." Creek related and set the thick bracelet into Jim's hand.

"_Pilamaye_ Mniohlateinyan." Jim smiled softly and turned the bracelet over in one hand, rubbing his thumb across the decoratively carved beads.

"It was an appropriate collaboration of materials attuned to you coloration and personality as well as a challenge and practice for my craving. The choice of the article itself was to accentuate the bone structure of the radiocarpal joint. Throughout history the exposure of the wrist has been considered a sexual action and at times a scandalous offense of higher class. Granted the act was more often associated with females than males and was more predominant in behavior of the Victorian era and before when the human skeletal structure was more slender and finer developed than the modern era." Creek shrugged one shoulder, a long moment hung as the doctor contemplated for a moment then seemed to dawn on a realization. "You're welcome, Hoksilato."

Jim grinned back and wound the bracelet between his fingers. Spock continued to observe Creek with a quiet surprise and interest. Many of the minds on the _Enterprise _were recorded as genius and abstractly intelligent but Creek seemed to be a wealth of information and blunt honesty that caught and held the hybrid's attention, Spock had logged away everything that Creek had said and resigned himself to the fact that he was going to learn an unprecedented amount of trivial facts, especially if the rest of the Chicalato family indulged and allowed Creek to speak at length as Jim and Cody did.

It was strange to think that such focus and intelligence was stemmed from a mental disorder.

Creek turned his attention back to the assortment of bundled objects and drew another one; the fabric faded brown and fell away easily at Creek's touch.

A similar bracelet exposed to the air, the only difference was the carved pattern and the stone were layered shades of red in red banded agate.

"You don't need anything to accentuate your wrists, Sis." Creek signed with one hand and held out the bracelet. Jim made a playful, indigent sound at Spock's side. Cody lightly took it from his hand, smiling and clasped it into place on her wrist. She caught Creek's hand and squeezed it once as she signed her thanks.

"And Spock."

That startled the hybrid enough to twitch. His eyes snapped from the bracelet on Cody's wrist to where Creek was unfolding a white cloth and settling a smooth, rounded object into his lap before lifting it again. The object was large but seemed to weight very little. It was a shell of some kind, the curve long and balanced. The ivory white shell marked with a pattern of short, narrow brown stripes and fine dots that covered the bulk of the shell but cut back and faded to white.

"The shell of a chambered Nautilus. A species that is native to the Pacific Basin, including the Australian Great Barrier Reef." Creek turned the shell over once as if it was new to him before offering it towards Spock.

The hybrid did not reach for the shell. "Creek. The gesture is much appreciated but unnecessary. It is not Vulcan custom to give gifts for this particular event and material objects do not hold the same significance as humans." Spock protested politely.

"From what little of the Vulcan race I know, it's not one of my interests, I summarized as much. Considering that you would not accept this without logical reasoning it is as follows: consider this as an offering of friendship and acceptance to a kindred spirit as well as a token of my appreciation for keeping company and the safety of my youngest brother."

"I don't need a babysitter, Creek." Jim sighed.

"Shut up." Creek snorted over his shoulder, a flicker of affection in his eyes before turning back to Spock. "That being said, to enlighten you to the value of the Nautilus Shell on a Vulcan level-"

Spock watched as Creek set a hand on either side of the shell, gave a slight twist and the shell opened up to a perfect cross section. Creek passed one half off to Spock. The inside of the shell was a series of ever narrowing chambers that curved and followed the internal spiral in a tight coil until it ended in a point.

"Biologists and mathematicians of the human race have and still do consider the spiral and chambers of the Nautilus Shell as the most perfect and infinite mathematical equation that occurs in physical form naturally in the known universe." Creek's lips tilted up in a grin and his face had softened.

Spock stared down at the shell and behind his eyes the numerals and variables dropped into place, linear lines and matrices falling along the curves and arches of the chambers. The numbers ticked and clicked together in an organized frenzy.

"I extend to you, Creek, my thanks." Spock said quietly, dragging eyes reluctantly away from the natural beauty he'd been bestowed.

"Sure. I wish my interest fell more into the living than the dead. I could tell you more about it." Creek passed over the other half of the shell and bundled up the rest of the gifts and tucked then back away in his backpack ad took the guitar back into his lap. Freeing Jim up to fix the bracelet in place around his wrist. Spock cradled the Nautilus Shell against his stomach and settled back in his chair. Jim gently nudged his shoulder with his own.

"Looks like you made a friend, Spock."

The hybrid's attention split when Creek fell to his guitar, lightly stroking the strings and toying with melodies that reflected the music of Jim's choice on the drive up. The low rumbles of classical rock tunes.

"It may be that Creek is considered the 'odd' brother but I find him quiet engaging and complimentary."

"_Pilamaye_, Spock." Creek rumbled absently and stroke the guitar again. "You are a member of the Sciences group?"

"Yes. As well as serving as First Officer I am also the Head of the Science Department aboard the _Enterprise_." Spock agreed.

"I considered it myself, after Hoksilato enlisted. Wouldn't be a good fit."

"The basis for your conclusion?" Spock asked then his eyes snapped to Cody, stilling his own hands as she spoke.

_**He's a digger. It would be like a badger without a set.**_

Creek continued with his guitar, as if forgetting he was surrounded by other sentient beings at all.

They settled into a comfortable quiet only broken by the strums of Creek's guitar. Jim wandered off for a moment and came back with one of the terminal's data pads and started working through the arrivals to figure out the other three transports they need to catch.

Spock watched Creek's touch skate across the strings, noting the similarities between operating the guitar and working a Vulcan lyre; Spock's palms occasionally swept over the smooth outer shell of the Nautilus. Cody had settled one of her hands on the body of the guitar and kept it there as the doctor played, feeling the vibrations of the music in place of hearing it.

The peace lingered as the corridor outside of the small lounge started to crowd as the morning wore on. At around ten the spell broke.

"I figured out where Casper's coming in." Jim said, lifting a hand free to sign his words. Cod pulled her touch back from the guitar and Creek lifted his head. "Dock Five and if I'm right Cikala's transport'll come in right after that at Dock Six."

"When?" Creek asked.

"Ten thirty then elven."

_**Let's head out.**_ Cody signed. Creek passed his guitar over, tugged his khaki jacket back on before slinging the duffle and backpack back into place across his shoulders and chest. The guitar fell into place as the other three set their own coats into place across their shoulders and filed out of the lounge. Spock stayed close at Jim's side while Cody and Creek walked a head cutting a path in the crowd. They moved through the thick of people and followed the vid screens back along the terminal until the gap of space between Docks Five and Six. They shifted out wards the edge of the crowd and settled back against far wall with a good view of the arrival portal. They waited in quiet, crushed by the noise of humanity around them. Spock turned to speak to Jim and found the place on the wall next to him empty and the place where Creek had been was occupied by the abandoned guitar, duffle and backpack. Spock started scanning the crowd for a blonde and dark head, tracking strangers more than once but no sign of Creek or Jim near.

He turned to Cody and quickly signed that the two had disappeared.

_**It's okay Spock.**_ She assured. _**They're being boys.**_

"Aunt Cody! Aunt Cody!" A set of voices squealed and two bolts of tawny, purple, blue and black slammed into Cody's legs ruthlessly, followed shortly by a much larger black and brown mass of fur. The deaf rancher stumbled, looking startled then her face split into a grin and pried the small forms away from her legs and hefted them one arm each into the air with a squeal of joy and they wrapped arms lightly around Cody's throat.

It was a set of girls, a approximately six years old. And both were identical, faces was a pretty heart shapes that were alike to Cody's their hair a dark chocolate streaked in black and left to hang loose. One was wearing a puffy, purple coat, knit purple hat and jeans with purple sneakers, the other in the same clothes but the colors a pale blue. There were small canvas backpacks over her shoulders, a stuffed brown pony's head stuck out of the main pocket of the purple's.

A leather leash was wrapped tightly around the blue jacketed girl's wrist and led down to the mass of brown and black fur. A massive dog, easily one hundred pounds or more, with a short, sleek coat, a massive head, rolling jowls layered with saliva and a docked stub of a tail that twitched happily.

A breed of large working dog referred to as Rottweiler.

A woman cut her way through the crowd towards them, her face was spilt in a weary smile. She was slender and attractive, dark hair falling around her face. Large dark eyes tired. She wore jeans and tennis shoes, a soft suede coat buttoned up the front to her collar and a mottled knit scarf of earthen colors. There was a leather duffle suitcase slung over her shoulders. One arm supported a toddler, eighteen months or so, bundled up almost completely out of sight in pale green. Her other arm supports a small ceramic bowl planter occupied by a single, squat barrel cactus.

"Cody." The woman huffed, sounding exhausted.

Cody grinned back and eased the twin girls to the floor, still chattering and vying for her attention, and gently looped an arm around the woman's waist for a carefully oriented hug and rubbed her nose with the nose peak of tawny flesh of the toddler between the cap and scarf. The Rottweiler woofed loudly and Cody skidded her hand over its head before standing back.

_**Hey Marie. Hey Pups.**_

The twins scrambled to awkwardly sign as they chattered wildly. Cody absently nodded at them but focused on Marie.

**_You okay?_**

Marie sighed. "At least everyone'll sleep."

Cody laughed silently before nodding towards Spock. _**Marie, this is Spock. He's one of Jim's friend**_s.

"Hi. I'm Marie. Casper's wife, the twins are Maza and Magazu, this is Matoha." Marie sighed and smiled as best she could at Spock and shifted the toddler on her hip, then gave the cactus a twitch. "Pokey and the slobber machine is Uta."

The Rottweiler barked and sat down neatly on his stub tail.

"It is a pleasure to meet you-"

Spock was cut off by the crowd crying out in surprise over the sound of a physical altercation. The thud of flesh hitting flesh and connecting again with floor tile. Yelps and growls, barks of semi-pain and joy.

The crowd parted and a wrestling mass of human flesh was thrashing on the floor. One of the masses were Creek and a streak of blonde was Jim. The other was another large framed, tawny skinned male with raven feather hair. The trio laid playful punches on each other and shoved, rolling and pinning each other repeatedly until Jim scrambled out of the pile and broke away, staggering and dashing across the corridor before skidding to a stop next to Spock, Cody and Casper's family.

"Hey Marie." Jim panted and leaned forward to peck a kiss on her cheek.

"Uncle JimJimmyJim!"The twins shrieked and tackled Jim's legs, squeezing and chattering at him as wildly as they had Cody.

"Girls!" Jim bellowed, dropping to his knees and crushing the twins to his chest. "Uta!"

The Rottwiler barked and wiggling wildly crushed in as close to the twins in Jim's hug as he could. After a few seconds Jim extracted himself and got to his feet, turning towards Marie and held out his arms,

"Baby. Gimme."

Marie carefully turned over Matoha. Jim swept the child into his arms, cradling him against his chest and hummed happily to the eighteen month old, passing a large hand over the baby's back.

Creek and the eldest male sibling of Chicalato family made their way other, both smoothing their clothes and panting. Casper was taller than Jim and Creek, his frame was wider and center of balance lower than the other two. His entire frame was thickly muscled and tawny skin unblemished. Hs raven hair was cropped in a short military cut, eyes the same dark brown as Creek and a similar, square jaw. He was wearing jeans and work boots, a thick sweater under a leather coat and a scarf tangled around his neck had pulled free in the scuffle to expose his medicine wheel necklace, this one colored red, orange, black and white. Casper's face was split in a flushed grin, one arm draped across Creek's shoulders, he was supporting the weight of two canvas duffles, one black marked with the logo for the Sioux Falls Fire Department and the other was tan with a design of purple and blue flowers and yellow stars.

"Is the arrival of a Chicalato sibling always undergone with a physical altercation?" Spock asked aloud.

"Always." Jim, Creek and Casper chorused.

"Hey, Spock, right?" Casper rumbled and offered his hand. Spock hesitated, looking down at the massive hand.

"Grip his wrist Spock." Jim encouraged and nudged Spock's shoulder with his own as he swaywed his stance back and forth, rocking Matoha.

Spock carefully reached forward and wrapped his fingers around Casper's wrist and forearm, the elder brother did the same.

"Casper. Nice to meet cha." The firefighter rumbled with a lopsided grin. "Put a face to the guy keepin' our baby brother out of the fire. Creator knows he's too much for Caniwahu."

"Can you not make me sound like I'm five, Petamato." Jim sighed.

Casper squeezed Spock's wrist once before letting go and both stepping back from each other.

"So, ya joinin' the Chicalato clan for the holidays?"

"I have been invited and accepted the invitation."

Casper let out a low whistle. "Ya sound like Creek when he gets goin'. Bold. I like it. Hey Sis! Beautiful as always."

The eldest male leaned forward and laid a kiss on Cody's temple and hugged her shoulders and neck.

**_Casper_**.

The eldest brother pulled away from his sister and still grinning started to speak when he was cut short by a bark of simultanious joy from Maza and Magazu.

"Toweya! Aunt Tessi! Uncle Cikala!" The twins screamed.

"Damnit." Casper hissed and barely had time to slide the duffles off his shoulder as a man launched off the floor onto the firefighter's back and hung on desperately.

Cikala was the youngest of the four brothers but boasted the tallest, he was easily a few inches passed Spock's own height. His raven feather hair was also cropped short fitting his position as an officer. His build was leaner and finer toned than Creek or Casper, his face slightly softer and jaw rounder than the other two and could easily be opted to be called 'baby faced' but no less handsome than the two older brothers. His eyes were a blue hazel, brown streaked with navy. There was a small chunk missing out of his left ear and around his neck was a medicine wheel of black, white, gray and pale aubrun. Cikala wore jeans and a thick navy hooded sweatshirt marked with the shield logo of the Chicago Police Department.

Casper bent double under the weight of his youngest sibling.

"Give up?" Cikala ground out, his voice distorted as if it had been badly damaged at one point.

Casper sighed, then promptly fell backwards on top of Cikala, crushing him under his weight. The police officer yelped and thrashed wildly under Casper's weight and shoved roughly enough to slide out only to be tackled in the side by Creek and Casper leapt on them both.

In a single movement Cody pulled Matoha from Jim's arms and the blonde launched into his third fight of the morning and in a matter of seconds the four were rolling and romping, they growled and yelped, snapping playfully at each other in a joyful puppyish mass. They mouthed and pawed and felled light blows and pushes on each other and seemed content to go on in their play despite the stares and murmurs and adverse attention.

"Aunt Tessi! Toweya!" The twins squealed again and drew attention to a tall woman with slight curves. She had auburn hair a fair pallor for a Native American. Her eyes were bright blue. She was built fairly willowy and wore stylized jeans, sneakers and a wool and felted coat of red and trimmed black. Her hair was tied back in a messy pony tail and she had a red and black duffle slung over her chest.

One hand was tightly wound with the hand of a eight year old that was her image in miniature, the only difference were the little girl had Cikala's eyes and and an air like her father. A confidence that Spock had seen few adults display. The eight year old was dressed in identical to her father, including the sweatshirt and had a back pack that was also Chicago PD marked. Under one arm she carried a glass bowl full of sloshing water and a tri-colored goldfish that was far too large than should be for the container.

In the woman's other hand was a leash connected to a large, long coated dog with a narrow muzzle and perked ears. The dog had markings similar to Situpsa, the white paws and bib and sable back. The animal trotted instead of walked and let out a high pitched bark, greeting Uta with a wave of a brushed tail.

A Collie.

"Hey Tessa." Marie chirped tiredly.

**_Look good, Tessa._** Cody greeted, shifting Matoha around to free one hand to sign.

"Hello everyone." Tessa responded in a deep Chicago accent, she released Toweya who trotted up to Cody and squeezed the rancher's leg one handed and Cody patted the girl's back before Toweya turned and started chattering with her twin cousins.

Spock looked between the group and the rough housing Chicalato brothers and Jim and began to feel a level of trepidation of the new company at the ranch, the noise and aggression was leaving a tangible weight of unease.

This time, when the scrap ended the three brothers left Jim panting tiredly on the floor and turned back to their wives, children, sister and dogs.

Spock stepped over to stand over Jim and looked down at the blonde.

"Spock..." The young man gasped.

"Are you in need of assistance?" Spock asked, shifting the Nautilus to free one hand in case of it's need.

"No." Jim looked up, cerulean eyes bright and face flushed. "Spock..."

"Yes?"

"I'm happy."

The knot of disquiet and tension in Spock's gut loosened and melted away all together. A sense of peace and relaxation settled deep into his being and soothed him. He could not call it empathy, not true empathy, but the blonde's declaration soothed Spock, reminded him that his whole reason for coming to the ranch was the well being of his Captain, of his friend. "Indeed?"

"Got my brothers and sister, got one of my best friends..." Jim absently reached out and patted Spock's ankle through the denim and thermal clothing. "... my horses, my dogs, space to run like Hell if I want."

The blonde sounded nostalgic and slightly intoxicated.

Jim chuckled and looked up at Spock from the floor with a wolfish grin and his eyes flooding with silver.

"When Bones gets here I might supernova with euphoria. Or when it snows. Whichever comes first."

"Hoksilato, get off the floor." Cikala barked.

Jim lifted his head and looked the officer in the eye. "Make me."

Cikala lifted an eyebrow into his hair line and started forward. Instantly Jim scrambled to his feet and danced back.

"That's what I figured." Cikala snorted and turned his attention to Spock. "Hey. Cikala Chicalato."

He offered his hand and Spock reached forward to grip his wrist and was returned the hold.

"I am Spock. It is a pleasure Officer Chicalato."

"Casper was right, ya do sound like Creek. Can Vulcans have Asperger's?" Cikala set his hands on his hips and cocked his head.

"I assure you my behavior is typical of a member of the Vulcan species."

"Huh. Well ya might as well call me Cikala. Ya'll be family soon anyway. That's the way it is with the strays Jim brings home." Cikala stretched and sidestepped as he spoke to life a pair of duffles, both navy blue and marked with the Chicago Police logo and settled them over his shoulders. "Who's missin?"

"It's two hours before Cokata comes in." Jim sighed and stretched before moving in to Spock's side.

"What about Caniwahu?" Casper asked as he moved over to stand with them.

"I commed him a couple days ago and haven heard back, either he's dead in a ditch or still working through data pads." Jim shrugged one shoulder.

"Dead in a ditch." Cikala affirmed.

"Shut up, Wahacaka." Jim growled and punched the officer in the shoulder. Cikala made no reaction, as if he hadn't felt the blow at all.

"Who's that?"

The voice, though young, was low and brimming with caution and suspicion. Spock turned and looked down into the narrowed blue hazel eyes and rigid frame of Toweya. The youngster had crossed her arms tightly over her chest and looked resolute and unafraid as she glared straight at Spock. On the floor next to her was the bowl and fish swimming slowly in the water.

"Hey Toweya!" Jim chirped with a smile and started forward. Toweya sharply held up a hand, showing Jim her palm. The blonde stopped dead and looked around at Cikala with raised eyebrows and a look of mild astonishment on his face. Casper had a similar bemused look.

Cikala held out his arms with a shrug. "She's self-actualized. Or some bull like that... whatever that quack Tessa sends her to said..."

"Doctor Moline." Toweya supplied.

"Yeah. Moline." Cikala shrugged.

"What're ya talkin' 'bout 'doctor'?" Casper asked with a snort. "She sick? If she's sick Caniwahu'll handle it."

"'M not sick." Toweya sniffed. "Moline's a child sycolo... child piecolo..."

"A psychologist!?!" Jim and Casper barked, outraged.

"I suspect it is not customary for human children to be evaluated psychologically." Spock cocked his head slightly.

"Damn straight." Jim snarled.

"Language." The two fathers warned.

"Look, it's not my idea." Cikala sighed. "She's fine."

"I'm fine." Toweya agreed.

"She's fine." Cikala shrugged. "Just, Tessa doesn't think she's 'feminine' enough or somethin' stupid. Somethin' 'bout gender confusion and poor role models and misguided life goals."

"I wanna be a Marine. Then a cop." Toweya said proudly. "And nobody with a piece of paper and a leather couch it goin' to change that by tellin' me to color ponies pink instead of brown. Whoever heard of a pink pony anyway... well except for a rose grey like Uncle Jim's Titmouse, but that's only in the sunlight. Ponies aren't pink."

Jim, Casper and Cikala stared down at the eight year old.

"I'm just not seeing the problem here." Jim sighed. Casper nodded in agreement.

"Right?" Cikala sighed.

Casper tugged at one of his ears. "She seems well balanced to me. Wish the twins were as focused-"

"Hey!"

The four adults looked back down at Toweya. The child pointed in Spock's face.

"Who is he, Uncle Jim?" Toweya asked as harshly as an eight year old girl could.

"Well, Toweya. This is Spock. He's my First Officer and Head of Sciences on the _Enterprise_ and one of my best friends. He's been at the ranch with me and your Aunt Cody for the last month, pulls his weight, is learning to ride and going to stay over the holidays." Jim crossed his arms tightly over his chest and looked down at Toweya with the same expression she had. "Sound good?"

Toweya looked Spock up and down once.

"Okay." She shrugged and turned on her heel, lifting her goldfish off the floor and marched back towards her twin cousins who had been watching wide eyed and waiting for a report.

Jim whistled low. "Wow."

Casper chuckled and draped and arm around Cikala's neck and tugged him along. Jim and Spock followed as the Chicalato clan started to migrate towards a nearby lounge to settle down and wait the next two hours out before collecting that last of the Chicalato brothers.

Spock was slightly surprised when Cody dropped back through the throng of family to walk at Spock's other side. She smiled encouragingly at him and reached up to lightly feather her hand though the hair at his temple, her fingers smoothing the swept tip of his delicate ear shell. A flicker of silent concern and encouragement brushed across his mind.

**_Holding up alright?_**

Spock offered her a simple twitch of a fist in 'yes'. Cody nodded and gave him a assuring smile. They followed the family into a lounge and settled down with a collective breath of exhaustion but contentment. Spock found himself strategically seated between Jim and Cody. The younglings romped with the Gabriel and the Collie, Leo. Matoha made a fuss until Casper took him over from Marie. Creek stroked his guitar and Cikala listened absently to his wife. Everyone fell into a conversation of mixed Lakota and Terran and everyone's hands were twitching and twisting in sign language. The conversations were centered around the transports and the day of travel, Spock's presence was somewhat skated over and Jim was teased passive aggressively and relentlessly but it all seemed given and taken in good humor.

The hours slipped by until Cody took up her place as matriarch and roused the rest of them into movement again. They grumbled and groaned but no one objected or rebelled, even the hyperactive and unruly children quieted under the steady, grey gaze. It was clear, in that moment that Cody, the tiny deaf creature that Spock saw no vice in at all, was the undisputed leader and general of their clan.

It was not strange to see a female in charge. In it's history the Vulcan culture was a matriarchal one. T'Pau was the current head of the High Council as well as his own familial House. But the severe, imposing females of Vulcan, some easily a foot or more taller than Cody were nothing like the woman that Spock physically could have carried under one arm.

Though he wouldn't dare.

It took a moment for Spock to realized he'd reached another in a long line of epiphanies.

As he accepted Jim as Captain on the _Enterprie_, in less than a month, Spock had come to accept Cody's role as an undisputed alpha. An alpha he found himself oddly in the good graces of as he watched Cody silently and naturally curb the behavior of the rest of the clan from her place flanked by Spock and Jim.

The hybrid pondered for a moment the notion of his cultural matriarch matched against the lone Chicalato female.

"Spock."

He blinked and turned chocolate eyes to meet cerulean ones. Jim had a small bemused smile on his face.

"Getting tired? You've been staring at Cody for the last five minutes."

"While I am experiencing a level of fatigue my condition is acceptable. My focus remained on Cody for the reason that I was contemplating a confrontation between Cody and the head of the Vulcan High Council."

"Who? T'Pau? You were wondering who would win a fight between T'Pau and Cody?" Jim looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh.

"Not a 'fight', a confrontation." Spock defended.

Jim chuckled quietly. "Didn't T'Pau refuse a seat on the Federation Council?"

"Yes."

"Well they'd have that in common. I'm pretty sure that Cody'd turn 'em down, too." Jim shrugged a shoulder.

"But I believe that would summarize the similarities and possibly good relations." Spock affirmed.

Jim chuckled then sobered slightly. "When we get back you can crash in my bed or meditate or something."

"I doubt that either would be successfully obtainable. Nor will I alienate you from your bed while we are bunked together."

With the arrival of the Chicalato brothers there was, of course, a space problem. Granted that the ranch home was one of the largest that Spock had seen as a personal residence there were only three guest rooms in addition to Cody's and Jim's. And Spock was in one of them. It had been a nervous conversation with a simple resolve, Spock share space with Jim. Now the argument over the last few days had been wither or not Spock took Jim's bed from him, which the blonde insisted and hybrid refused.

"Spock, I have a legitimate reason to sleep in my road hammock. In my own room. I'm gonna sleep in it. So shut up." Jim sank his hands into his pockets. "Besides, Bones would approve. Good for the lumbar."

"You mentioned that the room I was using will be given to Cokata specifically."

"Yup." Jim leaned up on his toes and looking over the crowd as the arrivals poured into the corridor of the terminal.

"Is there a reason for this?"

"Yeah. And a logical one at that." Jim's lips pulled into a smile and he pushed away from the wall next to Spock and started into the crowd. At the corner of his eye Spock saw Creek, Casper and Cikala do the same. The hybrid narrowed his eyes at the non answer until the object of the blonde's and brothers' attentio moved into view.

Cokata Chicalato bore the same features as the other elder brother did, a solid jaw, dark hair and brown eyes. His hair grown to his shoulder and fell in wavy ripples. His lips seem quirked in a perpetual smile. His face was kindly and softer than the other brothers. He had the same wide shoulders and coiled muscle under tawny skin. Dressed in jeans and a thick sweater and corduroy jacket. Around his neck was a medicine wheel of white, black, violet and pale purple.

Jim had said Cokata had turned to enforcing the law in the courts instead of in the streets due to an injury in the field. Though he had no specified the wound and repercussions, it now was understandable why Cokata would remain on the first floor.

The middle brother was confined to a wheelchair.

Cokata grinned widely at his brothers, his hands skimming over the wheels of his chair as he pushed himself forward. Jim bounded forward and deftly landed a punch to Cokata's shoulder before dancing out of the way as the counselor swiped at him then turned to defend against the other brothers. The level of violence was clearly checked but not disregarded. Cokata landed a few shoves and light punches from his seat and when Jim moved to close he deftly caught the blonde in a head lock and dragged him doubled over and struggling for a distance before letting go to roll the rest of the distance to Cody.

The deaf woman wrapped an arm around Cokata's neck and received a one armed hug in return. The circle opened back up as Cokata's wife and child stepped into the group with duffles of baggage an a pair of dogs in tow. The two animals looked something like the Collie, though their tails were bobbed and instead of sable their fur was a mottled grey and black of blue merle. The breed was Australian Shepherd and they wriggled happily and yapped joyfully.

Spock observed and reflected on the small mixed species family.

Cokata's mate was an Aenar. A subspecies from the planet Andor. Unlike the Andorians, Aenar were a pacifist breed. They shied from conflict. Soli was tall and slender as her species were tendered towards, her pallor a pale blue, a set of short antenna at her hairline and the long white hair was tied back in a pony tail. The entire species near blind, Soli was wearing a pair of darkly shaded glasses against the glare of the terminal and world. She wore the dark jeans, tennis shoes and heavy coat that the other Chicalato spouses had taken up.

The youngling was of about eight or nine, was male. His genetic make up was well blended, his features fine and delicate like his mother's, his skin the pale blue but his cropped hair was the raven feathers of a Chicalato and his dark brown eyes bright and sight only slightly distorted and aided by a pair of fine wire glasses perched on his nose. He was wearing the small work boots and jeans like his father and a heavy pale blue hooded sweatshirt against the cold.

"Suri!" The cousins wailed in joy and rushed to the male hybrid. The tense nervous look on Suri's face gave way to a smile and he opened his arms to be wrapped up by the twins and Toweya. He pulled away to wrap his arms round Cody's waist and received a squeeze in return. The group chattered and for a moment it seemed Spock had been forgotten.

Then Cokata pulled away and called his son towards him with Jim in tow. Suri climbed up into his father's lap and sat still as Cokata wheeled over to Spock left standing with the collection of duffles and backpacks and an over large goldfish in a too small bowl.

Jim trotted happily along side the counselor and winked at Spock.

"Hey." Cokata said, his face twisted in a gentle smile and dripping with a natural charm that Spock had only seen displayed by Jim. "Spock?"

"Yes." The Vulcan hybrid responded and moved forward to take wrists with the crippled man.

"Cokata. Yer Ambassador Sarek's son."

Spock lifted an eyebrow and cocked his head slightly.

"I am. You have had some dealings with my father in the past. It was how your work came to my attention. I have read your proposition concerning younglings and children in the Federation. It is idealistic work but I find it logical and necessary."

"_Pilamaye._ Thank ya Spock. Yer father said somethin' along the same lines. It'd be a lot easier to get this thin' done if all the delegates were parents or at least had nieces or nephews."

"The sympathies of bearing children would not necessarily make the journey to the final product attainable." pock disagreed.

Cokata chuckled. "Also somethin' her daddy said. But I'm not here to talk shop. First, thanks for keepin' an eye on our littler brother here. Keepin' his nose clean and everythin'. It's good to know that he's got a couple of people watchin' his back."

"I must be a goddamn invalid or something. Can't take care of my own damn self." Jim snorted.

"Cut the language." Cokata warned with a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "And I wanted to introduce ya to somebody. Hey Suri. This is Spock."

"Hi." The boy said shyly and fiddled with his father's hand.

"Suri. Spock and ya got somethin' in common."

Suri looked up and narrowed his eyes at Spock and the Vulcan hybrid straightened himself a bit.

"What?" The boy asked suspiciously.

Spock flicked his eyes towards Jim, the blonde gave him and imploring look and a hopeful nod.

"Suri. My father, Sarek, was a Vulcan and my mother, Amanda, was human."

The boy's eyes went wild and wide behind his glasses. "Yer momma was like my daddy?"

"Yes."

"Did they tease ya in school too?"

Cokata and Jim both flinched, looking pained. Spock felt his own stomach twist slightly, feeling what he thought had been a long dead pain dig into the lining of his stomach.

"Yes. A number of my classmates sought entertainment at my expense." Spock said honestly.

"Yeah. I dunno why they think it's funny." Suri pushed off his father's lap and grabbed a hold of Spock's sleeve and tugged him along until they were walking along the terminal. Suri kept a firm grip on Spock's sleeve and tilted his head back to look up at him.

"The reason for their amusement escapes me as well." Spock agreed.

Suri shrugged. "Daddy says it's 'cause they're unhappy so they take it out on different people. He knows. He deals with bullies and mutts all the time. Except they're the worst kind of bullies and mutts because instead of just usin' words to hurt people they actually hurt 'em. Daddy and my uncles are tryin' to make it so that it doesn't happen any more."

"A just cause."

"It's hard 'cause for every bully and mutt they stop a bunch more show up." Suri shrugged and tugged Spock along. The Vulcan hybrid glanced briefly over his shoulder and saw the rest of the Chicalato clan were following along. Directly in his wake were Suri's parents looking at him like a gift of God, Jim with a proud grin that flooded his eyes silver and Cody with a truly affectionate smile aimed at Spock specifically.

"It is a difficult task."

Suri shrugged and pushed his glasses up. "Yeah but Daddy said anythin' worth doin' is hard."

"He is a wise man and one that should be listened to."

"I hope so, 'cause he told me not to punch the bullies at school for what they said and it's hard not to."

Spock twitched his ear slightly back at the stifled laugh that was no mistaking as Jim's and groan from Cokata.

"I learned in school that Vulcans are really smart and sometimes they don't get along real well with humans." Suri continued oblivious.

"The relations of Vulcans and humanity has been and can be strained at times." Spock responded honestly.

"But they get along with Aenar right? Because Vulcans and Aenar don't like to fight anybody."

"Both races are ideally pacifist."

"So... can yer Vulcan parts get along with my Aenar parts and both our human parts should get along alright 'cause they're the same so... we should get along alright, right?"

Spock blinked down at the hybrid child and felt a twitch of pain and nip of affection. "I see no logical reason why we should not obtain a friendly relationship."

"That was easy." Suri scoffed. "I dunno why my teachers say I have a hard time makin' friends. I think _they_ have a hard time makin' friends with _me_."

Jim's laughter was matched by the booms of the rest of the Chicalato brotherhood. Suri jumped and twisted around. He blinked back at his family, gave Spock a slight smile before bounding back to sit in his father's lap. The Vulcan hybrid pulled up and waited, a number of the clan passed him with grins and winks. Soli stalled and whispered a thanks to him before following her child and mate.

Spock felt Jim's arm drape around his neck and tug him close.

"You're a new breed of brilliant, Spock." The blonde hummed into his ear with a grin. Spock twitched to the side when a light touch wrapped around his forearm and squeezed gently. He looked down at a smiling Cody who broke away to take Matoha from Marie.

Taking their leave of the terminal turned out to be an affair all it's own. The baggage was heaped into the truck bed along with Gabriel, Leo and the two Australian Shepherds, Sapa and To. Suri refused to ride without Spock and in turn Toweya turned surly and the Twins pitched a spectacular fit about being separated from their older cousins. In the midst of Casper carrying a twin under each arm and Cikala trying to reason with his daughter and restrain from starting a fight with his consort, Cokata had called over Spock, requesting his strength to physically lift Cokata out of his wheelchair and settle him into a seat in the truck cab while Creek hefted the chair into the bed with the dogs and baggage and from his place in the cab backseat continued to argue his point with his brothers.

Standard Terran mixed with Lakota and Sign and wild barking from the dogs. Threats and whines flew between screaming children. The tension was running thick enough that Spock was starting to choke on it as hackles rose and teeth snapped. Spock's resolve started to crumble about staying amid all the chaos and aggression.

A sharp whistle cut through and everyone stilled as the alpha decided to finally take control. Cody snorted like an agitated mare and it sent a nervous ripple through the clan, she gave a sharp jerk of her head and a few short twitches of her hands that reined in further argument and the clan spilt to fill the spaces of the Ram and Durango. Thankfully Spock found himself back in his shot gun seat next to Jim in the driver's seat. Suri, Toweya and the Twins happily seated directly behind them and chattering at a high pitch and near wild trying to keep each other's and Jim's attention and Suri Spock's. In the final row sat the three wives talking among themselves in lower tones. The Brotherhood having opted for the three hours together with baby Matoha in a car seat secured between Cokata, Casper and Creek in the back seat of the truck cab.

It made for a three hour trip of strained attention and a practice in patience as on more than instance the twins broke into screams and the haggard mothers tried to quell them, the disgruntled Toweya and occasionally explosive Suri who always came down from his tantrum ashamed and sullen. They were nothing like the Vulcan younglings, calm and collected, cool as river stones and restrained. This was very different and nothing like what the hybrid had experienced before.

It was no small breath of relief that slipped from him when the Ram and Durango made it's slow way through Darby, across the creek, through the pipe fence gate and started up into the mountain to the ranch.

The Ram and the Durango ground into the lee of the ranch home, garage and stable barn. The engine cut and left nothing but the riotous chatter of children in the air.

"Spock, why don't you go let the dogs out? Here." Jim passed him a small key on a key chain ornamented with a short dark braid of horse hair and brown and green glass beads.

An escape if it was anything. Spock nodded curtly and slid out of the Durango and strode quickly to the front door, pulling the screen open and unlocked it, pulling it open and stepping back as a wall of dog pushed out into the yard with deep barks and rushed to meet the new arrivals. Nemo A534 stalled halfway down the steps and twisted around to look back at Spock. The dog took a short sniff, glanced once towards the chaos surrounding the two vehicles then turned and walked back to Spock's side and nudged his hand gently, pushing the hybrid to stoke his head and ears.

The one eyed Shepherd pawed at Spock's knee once and gave a small bark before rising and starting back down the porch steps. The dog looked back at him expectantly and Spock steeled himself before following. Halfway across the hybrid sidestepped to avoid the small stampede of youngsters, weighted down by their duffles and backpacks, as they sprinted for the door and crashed through the front hall sounding something like a small Warp Core explosion.

"Spock, will you grab the chair?"

He turned back to find Jim carefully helping Cokata out of his seat in the cab and lifted him up bridal style. The blonde huffed slightly under the weight but started forward confidently.

"Of course." Spock agreed and quickly climbed onto the rear wheel of the truck and lifted the folded wheelchair out of the truck bed.

"Thank ya Spock. Much appreciated. I had to ship the ATV." Cokata explained over Jim's shoulder. Spock followed dutifully on Jim's heels and on stepping onto the wrap around porch, unfolded and locked the supports of the chair into place. Jim eased Cokata down into the chair, the counselor using his own strength to shift around and get comfortable in the seat again.

"ATV?" Spock asked.

"Cokata's got this badass chair that's got wheels with treads like the truck." Jim said excitedly. "And he can go all over Hell and back in it, in mud and wash out and snow. And the thing is so icool."

"Stop it Hoksilato. Ya'll make all the kids want to get shot in the spine." Cokata huffed a small laugh.

"It's awesome." Jim continued. "But it's like a monstrosity and you just can't travel with it. You're high matinence, ain't you?"

Cokata chuckled and then shoved Jim gently. "Git, ya damn fool. G'wan and make yerself useful. Idn't that what they teach in Starfleet? Haul cargo?"

"Ha ha. Shut up." Jim landed a sharp punch in Cokata's shoulder and led Spock down the steps and back towards the Brotherhood and their consorts. The dogs were chasing each other around the yard, snapping and yelping in small, harmless fights.

"That's another thing Spock." Jim said. "There is going to be a fair bit of Starfleet badmouthing going on. Try not to take it too harshly and I promise I'll float a few good insults about Marines and cops and firefighters."

"They will not be necessary. I calculated in that according to the general behavior of brothers include a fair amount of assault and what I believe is referred to as 'pulling no punches'. I will endure. Here."

He offered the key on the horse hair braid back.

"Keep it." Jim shrugged. Spock lifted an eyebrow and tucked the house key into his pocket safety, resolving to return it later.

Jim took a duffle bag from the assortment and handed it to Spock before taking one for himself and they started towards the ranch home with the rest of the clan weaving their slow way while chattering animatedly to each other. Cody carried a duffle over one shoulder and Matoha pressed to the other.

The clan cluttered and dumped baggage in the front hall, heaping piles of coats and sweaters shed in the heat of the home. The sound of thundering foot steps and muffled screams sounded from over their heads. Adult draped themselves down into the plush chairs and sofa of the living room. Spock hesitated when he felt a touch at his elbow. He looked down at Cody.

**_Give me a hand with the chow?_**

"Of course." He agreed and followed the petite red head into the kitchen and set to work helping with concocting a meal large enough to satisfy the swell of the clan. It soothed him to fill his ears with the soft sounds of clinking flatware, stainless steel and ceramic. The scents of cooking food flooded him and made his stomach hum and turn over for being neglected for so long. Time fled by, broken by the sounds of laughter and chatter from the living room, occasionally a brother or consort would drift into the kitchen, never causing to much disruption and for the most part Spock felt himself calm and relax with time to adjust to the new situation.

"Hey Spock. Feeling better?"

The hybrid twitched sideways to find Jim leaning lightly against the countertop fiddling with a standing coffee maker, it gurgled and puffed quietly.

"I am sufficiently functional. If you are referring to adapting to a more chaotic household then yes, I am adjusting."

"It's almost over. They're falling asleep out there and the Pups'll sleep until noon tomorrow. Alone I'd say that they've have four hours tops but after all this comfort food, it's three if they try." Jim leaned over the thick substance that Spock had been slowly stirring for a quarter of an hour, he sniffed and hummed happily. "Cheese and potato."

"Broccoli as well." Spock assured.

"Cody is the only human on this planet that can get a bunch of kids eat vegetables."

"By kids you mean you?"

The two Starfleet officers twisted and Jim made a face at Casper, the firefighter chuckled and moved around them to a small cabinet that remained largely closed. Casper pulled it open and he glanced briefly through the contents before pulling out two glass bottles. One full of clear fluid and the other a thick amber liquid.

He tossed the clear one to Jim, who caught it easily.

"Still?"

"Just because ya bailed to be a space cadet doesn't mean we changed the rules. When the kids and girls are tucked in."

"Spock stays." Jim rolled the bottle between his hands. "Cody likes him."

Casper paused and looked the hybrid up and down once. "Fine by me."

When the eldest male stepped out. Spock lifted an eyebrow at the blonde.

"It's a tradition, that's all." Jim assured and set the bottle aside. Cody stepped away from where she'd been slicing home baked bread and slim cuts of beef.

She crossed the kitchen, wiping her hands on her jeans and leaned around the corner. She let out an ear splitting whistle that made Jim flinch. From above the thunder that had quieted churned to life and shouts became less muffled as the youngsters tore down from their hideout in the cleared attic and rushed down to the kitchen. They chattered wildly with each other and bounded over to Spock and Jim when Cody told them to. The blonde pulled down several stacks of plates and bowls, turning the latter over to Spock to fill before handing them to the children.

The four kids happily took them with polite thanks and settled themselves in a small circle on the floor. The adults moved and worked around them easily and there was no fear of food stolen as all the dogs were shut out. Cody set the two massive platters of sliced meat and bread onto the table and helped Jim pass around plates and soup filled bowls. Glasses filled to the brim with milk or water took up residence next to coffee mugs and shot glasses filled with the bitter scented amber liquid from Casper's bottle. Whiskey.

Marie, Soli, Tessa and Creek seated themselves at the table Spock had spent many quiet meals with Jim and Cody. The Brotherhood casually leaned against the counter top around the kitchen. Cokata wheeled in next to Soli. Jim easily jumped up to sit on the counter next to the sink, kicking his heels against the cabinets balancing his bowl of soup and a piece of bred folded around several slices of beef. The kids picnicked happily, chewing noisily and jumping up to grab pieces of bread and beef and dropping back to the floor at their plates with ungainly thuds and sporadic bursts of laughter.

**_Here._**

Spock accepted a large bowl of soup Cody offered him, already floating with small cubes of cut bread. Cody had picked up that Spock preferred something soft to chew in the more creme based soups she made. He appreciated her efforts, feeling oddly gratified that she had made the extra effort, making it clear that she had not forgotten him in the chaos.

He lifted a hand and touched his chin before showing her his palm, given his silent thanks before collecting a spoon and moving to stand next to Jim and listened to the chatter from the adults in the room, everyone keeping one hand free to sign along wit their words. Topics ranging from events in their cities to personal ones. Mostly centered around Creek's work in Australia. Evidently the odd brother had been decidedly out of touch for a while.

"Hows the dig goin' Creek?" Casper rumbled.

"Excellent. While excavating the Australovenator we uncovered a few bone fragments and a shoulder plate that we believe is a male Diamantinasaurus." Creek toned out.

"Really?" Marie prompted, sliding a spoonful of soup into Matoha's mouth, the baby gurgled happily.

"Yes. It will be a spectacular find if it proves true. The only remains of Diamantinasaurus recovered have been female and fragmented. But the proximity of the site suggests that if there is a Diamantinasaurus skeleton to recover it will be in reasonably good condition and in a state of near completion."

"If you uncover the remains it will be the first completely skeletal structure of the species?" Spock inquired and felt a minor twinge of agitation when several heads turned his way.

"Yes." Creek agreed and the moment passed.

"Then your name will be most certainly be noted in the historical fossil record of discovery." Spock assured.

"Already has." Jim muttered.

"Six times." Cokata continued.

"Four for dinosaurs." Casper finished. "The once for archeology and once for anthropology."

Spock looked towards Creek.

"Affirmative." The doctor agreed.

"I was unaware." Spock responded.

"Very rarely are those centered in research surrounding life beyond our atmosphere aware of the fatal findings of those drawn from the mud and stone of earth." Creek reasoned. "If you find yourself struck by an interest concerning the deceased I offer my experience."

_**We're not going down that morbid path with the pups here. Drop it unless you go back to talking about the dig. **_Cody warned and brothers chuckled softly as Creek looked slightly put out and turned back to his food in silence.

"What about you, Hoksilato? How was it bein' an intergalatic hero and an action figure?" Cikala prompted.

"I'm not an action figure." Jim snorted.

"I beg to differ." Cikala dug into the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt and pulled out a platic, jointed figurine and tossed the toy at Jim. The blonde scrambled and caught the object and groaned as the Brotherhood burst into laughter and Jim flushed.

"God this sucks! No!" Jim shook the toy in Spock's face.

"It does possess similarities." The hybrid agreed.

"No!" Jim wailed. "I'm putting it in the disposal."

_**Do it and die, Jim!**_

"Can I have it Uncle Jim?" Suri asked hopefully.

"Not going to use it to do hoodoo on me?" Jim asked.

"Swear." The Aenar hybrid promised and caught the toy when it was thrown his way. "Awesome."

"I got the whole crew." Toweya informed him. "Caniwahu and Uncle Jim and Spock and all of 'em."

"The 'whole crew'? There's more of those things?!" Jim sounded panicked.

Cikala grinned. "We got ya the whole set for Christmas."

The brothers howled as Jim slumped back, his skull cracking on the mounted cabinet behind him and made a small noise of discontent. The laughter quelled down.

"Seriously Jim." Cikala asked with a smile. "Give us an earful."

Jim sobered and glanced meaningfully at the younglings.

Cikala nodded and made a sharp noise and commanding whistle that had Toweya sitting up at attention. Cikala jerked his head slightly.

"Hey, Aunt Cody, can we have desert in in the attic?" The eight year old asked quickly.

Cody's lips twitched. **_No spills?_**

Toweya nodded. "Right?"

The three others nodded sharply, looking excited.

**_Dishes in the sink._**

The four scrambled to do as ordered as Cody turned to the freezer and pulled out tub of chocolate ice cream. Spock shifted a little at the sight but reined in further reaction as Cody quickly doled out small bowls full of the ice cream and the kid scrambled to leave the adults for their own serious talk.

"Teeth brushed and pajamas!" Tessa called.

"All of you!" Marie impressed.

There was an intelligible noise and the mothers sighed.

"Better go. Enjoy you're Brotherhood meeting." Soli leaned over and planted a kiss to Cokata's temple. Marie and Tessa each received their own sentiments as they slipped out of the kitchen. Silence hung for a moment as Cody collected dishes and glasses and started turning out ice cream to her brothers. Casper went around and refilled the shot glasses and Cody put the ice cream away and pulled out a container Spock had come to associate with a thick, fruit smoothie that was thawed and frozen as needed. Cody cut out helpings to Jim and Spock of the frozen smoothie and started a new round of coffee.

"Stop stallin' Hoksilato." Cikala warned. "Somethin' happen?"

Jim toyed with his bowl, taking an absent spoonful.

"Didn't like the attention, huh?" Cokata pressed, knowing the feeling of being in high press. "Uncomfortable?"

"At best." Jim shrugged a shoulder and wrinkled his nose. The tension in his shoulders a signal clear to Spock that he didn't want to continue the subject. The brothers glanced at each other, a moment of silent communication before turning their attention back to the blonde.

"Is it tough without the ride?" Casper asked.

"Oh, Hell yes." Jim let the words out with a near gasp and a choked and bitter laugh. "It's confining. I love my damn chair but there's no room to run. I'm making myself sick in gym sometimes. Spock keeps up with me on stuff like Chess but... I don't know... maybe I'm not cut out for it."

"I protest. You are and excellent officer and exceptional Captain. You are more than fit for you position." Spock interjected.

The Brotherhood grinned, glancing at Cody who only quirked her eyebrows and gave a slight twitch of her lips.

"Sounds like a protest to me Hoksilato." Casper rumbled and moved over to tug the blonde down and steered him over to one of the chairs at the table as Cody sat down herself. Casper snapped his fingers at Spock and motioned for him to take the last chair. The hybrid hesitated before taking the seat across from Jim.

"Obviously ya don't know what the Hell yer talkin' 'bout 'cause last I checked Vulcans are 'bout as honest and blunt as the mountains, so shut up." Cokata sniffed and stretched a little in his wheelchair, lifting his arms above his head.

"But I can't relax. We were just out there for eighteen months and almost the entire time I couldn't relax." Jim protested.

"Almost?" Creek prompted.

Jim sighed. "Bones. Likes. Sedatives."

The brothers barked in laughter. Casper rumbled. "Sounds right."

"I mean I'm strung tight, I'm nervous, I feel like a goddamn hotblood up there. It's unnatural, all of it." Jim muttered and rubbed his temples.

"It was unnatural to me to ride a horse." Spock interjected and Jim went very still, looking up at Spock through his lashes. "And yet, with time and practice and a sound support system I have achieved much and become used to the action and all that goes with it. You are competent in you position and you will excel."

The brothers looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

"Spock. Are ya sayin' that Jim is teachin' ya how to ride?" Cikala asked.

"Affirmative." He looked at the brothers. "This is unusual?"

"Yer the first. How far are ya?" Casper asked, glancing at Jim, the young blonde had ducked his head and flushed a little across his cheeks.

"We have agreed to proceed to using a saddle and Jim has offered to locate a personal mount for myself."

Jim fidgeted. And the brothers shared a new series of glances and went still when Cody spoke, sitting tall and looking at Spock.

_**He's good. I like his seat**_.

The brothers as made small noises of mild surprise and approval. Jim had a mixed expression of shock and relief under his slight flush.

"Well. There ya go." Casper hummed.

"Anyway. What he said-" Cikala jerked his head at Spock. "-sounds right."

**_What do you expect Jim? You're not even comfortable on your own two feet. As long as we've known you you've always sat straighter and smiled brighter in the saddle. That's where you belong. And face it, you're never going to be as happy or as comfortable or as well sat as you are in a saddle. But that doesn't mean that you're meant to quit or you don't have another place to sit that can be comfortable too. By the way it sounds this Captain's chair is good for you. A good fit. A good sea_**_**t.**_ Cody signed rapidly.

Jim sighed and looked steadily up at Cody.

**_Settle you're pace. Get on bit and slow down til the tempos equal._**

"Got it." Jim nodded and smiled a little when cody reached out and smoothed his wheat gold hair affectionately and assuringly.

**_And you make sure of it. You tighten up those reins when he starts balking, got it?_** Cody directed the words at Spock.

"Yes, Cody."

The brothers chuckled.

"Yer goin' to fit right in, Spock." Casper rumbled then sighed. "Well. I think that's all I got in me so lets have our round for Misha."

The murmur of assent was met with a quick action for the remainder of the whiskey to be drained and glasses emptied while Jim fetched the bottle of clear liquid and a final shot glass that he set in front of Spock and filled before going around and doing the same for everyone else in the room. Spock sniffed at the small glass and caught the burn of alcohol and the slight starch scent of potatoes.

Vodka. A favorite among several of the crew originating from the eastern countries of Europe.

"Alright. Up." Casper commanded and the Brotherhood lifted their shots. Spock following suit with an encouraging look from Jim. Spock had the distinct feeling that being allowed the company of the Brotherhood after the departure of their consorts and children and especially in this moment was not easily granted or given. He was privy to something that few saw and not only would it be unwise to shrug it off it would possibly irreversibly damage the carefully offered trust and companionship.

Casper steeled himself before speaking.

"For Misha. Who went as quietly as he came. Who we were blessed with only for a moment."

In silence the Brotherhood and Spock threw back their drinks and swallowed as one. Spock followed the example of the others, turned his shot glass upside down and set into line with a the other six and making a complete circle.

A long moment of silence hung among them before the brothers broke off, dropping kisses onto Cody's cheek and ruffling Jim's hair with murmurs of sibling love and good nights before Spock was left with Cody and Jim at the table, with the darkness falling and dogs barking in distant pastures chasing rabbits and flushing bedded down birds.

Spock watched Jim reach over and lay a hand on Cody's forearm, squeezing gently.

Cody smiled somewhat weakly and patted his knuckles.

"May I ask." Spock's hands twitched and shaped out his words, drawing the attention of the creulean and grey eyes. "Who is Misha?"

Jim's eyes dropped to the floor in an instant and his shoulders hunched. Cody swallowed hard and after a heavy silent sigh looked Spock in the eye. The gaze was weary and sorrowful, grey dull and almost sickly, lined in unshed tears, she forced a weak smile before twitching out her answer.

**_Misha was my mate._**

Spock cast his gaze at Jim's bowed head for a moment before snapping his eyes back to Cody.

**_He and our son Colt passed away four years ago. _**

**_

* * *

_**

**_A/N: This was the uber chapter of doom but I really did want to get to this point. So yeah..._**

**_Well there's most of the family, all together. Just waiting a few more for the whole Clan to be together. Hope Spock holds up... who am i kidding, he'll be fine, he's got Jim and Cody in his corner. _**

**_And another MASSIVE reveal and side story has begun with the loss of Misha and Colt (I swear I didn't mean for those to be their names, those where the place marker names I put in when I was writing scribbles and outlines for their part of the story and when I went to go change them I honestly couldn't). Misha and Colt are the man and boy that Spock has noticed in a few different photos around the house. What happened to them will be explained in the next chapter. _**

**_Misha is a Russian name that means 'Who Is Like God', like Michael, in English._**

**_Anyway TONS of Lakota here, mostly because of names and stuff:_**

**_Ina - Mother/Mama_**

**_Citilali - Star_**

**_Mos ognake sni wayate niye - Can not see you _**

**_Mniohlateinyan - Water Under Stone _**

**_Lel - Here _**

**_Hoksilato - Blue Child. _**

**_ Lila waste el wayate niya, ciyewaye ki. - Very good to see you, my older brother _**

**_Niye el - You to _**

**_Uta- Acorn _**

**_Maza - Iron _**

**_Magazu - Rain _**

**_Matoha - Bearskin _**

**_Toweya - Scout _**

**_Caniwahu - Sawbones _**

**_Petamato - Fire Bear _**

**_Wahacaka - Shield _**

**_Ceskika - button _**

**_Sapa - black _**

**_To - blue_**

**_Yeah, alot of translations. Well, I hope you guys enjoyed the uber chapter that was uploaded in the middle of the night. I'm glad that I get to move onto the next one. R&R._**

**_PS Trivia: What is the significance of the breeds of the dogs? Hay and Sweet Grain for the right answer!_**


	9. Chapter 9

**There is a reason why this chapter is called 'Ache'. This is a pretty heavy. I try not to layer everything up but that's how it turned out in this one. So fair warning. **

**And nobody answered the trivia last time so the answer was:All the breeds were originally herding breeds (including the Rottweiler, it was originally a drover or cattle dog).**

**In other news: Murf!!! Who is Murf! Show yourself! I must know how to find you!!!! And thanks to Ms. Amy (Yasei Raiden) for the many little ideas and awesome art.**

* * *

**Summary: It was the first sleepless night that Spock spent in the arena with Cody and Jim in the company of horses; riding bareback and bitless, three abreast, until every muscle ached and breathing had become a labor.**

**

* * *

**

**Lost Horse Creek, Montana**

"**When you are lonely, let me be your companion. When you are tired, let me carry the load. When you need to learn, let me teach you… after all, I am your horse."**

**-Unknown**

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Ache**

"**It's odd that you can get so anesthetized by your own pain or your own problem that you don't quite fully share the hell of someone close to you.****"**

**- Lady Bird Johson**

* * *

_**Native Sky Ranch**_

_**124 Flathead Road,**_

_**Lost Horse Creek, Bitterroot Mountain Range, Rocky Mountains, Ravalli County, Montana**_

_**Stardate: 2260**_

_**October 20**_

_**2013 Hours**_

**…**

Spock refrained from speaking.

His eyes moving from Cody to Jim and back again. He kept his silence when Cody scrubbed her knuckles under her eyes, made a small choked noise and let out a breath as she rose and pulled open the door and let the pack of dogs into the kitchen and slipped out. Spock thought for a moment that she was possibly seeking a place of solitude, hiding herself away in her grief the way an elder sibling did for younger ones, sparing the siblings they felt responsible for the unease and stress of watching the elder crumble.

But it occurred to Spock that she was more likely going to pass out the evening feed and medications for the horses. Spock moved to get to his feet and froze when a large calloused hand caught his wrist and tugged him, non to gently, back down into his chair.

"Let her do it herself." Jim rasped quietly and quickly let go of Spock's forearm, but not before a bitter and powerful flood of pure despair flickered across the bracelet scar on his wrist. The wash strong enough to make Spock briefly ill, his stomach rolling and he suppressed a small noise of discomfort and slumped down into his chair to take deep breaths and settle his stomach.

"If she'd wanted help she would have asked." Jim said quietly and folded his arms on the table before hiding his face in them, only a nest of wheat gold hair exposed to the air. The tense quiet around them broken by the dogs scuffling for the water bowl before Wagi led the visiting dogs deeper into the house, Situpsa panting and rushing on their heels to follow on his much shorter legs. Canteska opted to shove passed Spock's knees and curl up under the table.

Nemo A534 stood tense in the middle of the room, his ears perked and hackles slightly raised as the one eyed Shepherd looked between Spock then Jim. The dog whined and quickly walked around to Jim's side. He pawed at the blonde's knee and when Jim didn't move, whined softly and shoved his face into the blonde's lap and sat pressed into Jim's leg and knee. The dog hummed out soft whines in the new quiet, sounding more and more sorrowful with each breath and moment that Jim didn't react or respond.

"You are greatly effected by this loss." Spock said slowly when his stomach had settled. Jim shivered and a muffled noise sounded like a affirmation. Another moment passed before Jim sat up and took a ragged breath and seemed to settle himself with a soft exhale but he continued to remain silent.

Spock hesitated, weighing the silence between them before speaking softly but clearly, as if unsure about being over heard in their isolation as the night fell on the mountain.

"To my people, to the _Vuhlkansu_..." Spock searched Jim's face, trying to catch his eye and see his mood clearly. Trying to read the silver ratioed against the blue but Jim's eyes stayed fixed on the table top or possibly his lap and the top of Nemo A534's head.

But Spock read as his shoulder's tensed, the muscles tightening and bony blades hunching together. The wire between them going so taught and tight that Spock could sense it fraying and humming under the tension. Jim wanted to bolt.

Spock was beginning to grow weary of this kind of tension.

How was it that in his place on the bridge of the _Enterprise _Jim would not turn from a confrontation of any kind, that he would plow headlong forward, recklessly so, almost flailing in his desperation to get to the point of altercation.

But here, on the ranch, Jim seemed in a perpetual state of near flight, ever ready to bolt. Spock had come to read the tightening of muscle, steel coiling in springs under tanned skin and to pin point the moment that Jim's breath started to shorten. The signs came so often enough and suddenly enough that Spock was consequently and usually surprised by them and found himself floundering, at least in the only minuet way that a Vulcan could flounder, to correct or nullify what had caused them. Typically without full understanding of what it was that had caused the symptoms of bolting in the young blonde to begin with. It was tiring, treading lightfooted for fear of spooking Jim, coaxing him back with softly spoken words that at times threatened to spiral well away from logic and reasoning; more than once worsening the effect than abaiting it and learning that at times only silence was acceptable. Spock found it a hinderance, an obstacle in communication and functionality, whatever the reasoning behind Jim's barely restrained urge to run Spock hoped that sooner than later the blonde would ground himself and settle steadily down into the earth.

Or actually run.

A fraction of himself that Spock refused to accept hoped for the latter. Hoped that Jim would burst into flight and in a dead gallop burn the need out of him. There was even a distasteful urge to spook the blonde into bolting. It was a primitive notion and weight bitterly against Spock's innate logic.

But it was fact. Reality.

Just as real as the fact that should Jim take flight, by whatever catalyst, Spock would not hesitate to give his last breath in pursuit.

Emboldened by the lingering nausea from Jim's grief the hybrid reached out and lighted his hand on Jim's forearm as the blonde had on Cody's, feeling only the simmer of ache through Jim's sleeve. If the emotions were strong enough to burn through the many layers of fabric at this volume it was disturbing how strong they truly were.

Jim tensed and the muscle jumped in instinctive action to pull away but in the last moment Jim sopped himself and went still under Spock's hand.

"To the _Vuhlkansu_... _pak_ _t'_ _yontaya-kan... wa'_ _sa-fu... kup of'kat veh olozhika. Veh dungi la'tusa na' hafayat t' veh ha'kiv. Ruhm fna' Kolinhar veh dungi tusa... wa' ko-mekh..._"

Jim listened intently, Spock could almost see the blonde's ear flicked towards him, listening to the low, rolling whisper of the hybrid's native tongue. Forearm still tense under Spock's palm.

Jim's breath rattled in his chest. "That was Vulcan."

"Yes. There is no way to express the depth of sorrow at the death of a child in Standard. It is _pak weht do veh shal_... loss greater than one's self. There is nothing mourned more deeply."

Jim swallowed heavily.

"You behave as one who has lost their own son."

Jim's forearm relaxed as his hand went slack, fingers uncurling and exposing a palm slicked with sweat and marked temporarily white by the bite of his own nails. His breath came out in a wheeze.

"I was there when Colt was born. I was his Godfather."

Spock hesitated but spoke carefully. "You witnessed his death."

Jim shivered violently. "And Misha... Bones and Cody and I... we were there..."

"Doctor McCoy was present?"

"He tried..." Jim choked suddenly and shut his eyes tightly, shivering once and shook his head before seeming to come up for air, breathing raggedly and rapidly. Spock's grip on Jim's forearm tightened to borderline painful but he did not draw back.

"It was a medical ailment."

Jim nodded jerkily before turning his hand over until the back of it and his knuckles were pressed into the scarred wood. Offering his open palm to Spock. The hybrid felt every muscle in his body tense.

"Look for yourself... " Jim said dully.

Spock nearly pulled his hand back from Jim's forearm, the hybrid stilling himself to restore some kind of internal calm as for a brief moment his world tilted and the axis lost before order was laid back into place with steel and sheer force of will. Any form of saliva had dried suddenly in his mouth and left it feeling thick and cottony as he collected himself.

"Jim... a mind meld is an intimate and... revealing event. In such a state that you are I believe that the effects of such an action, especially as the first attempt between yourself and I, could be cataclysmic."

"You want to know what happened."

"It is not-"

"I can tell." The deadpan of Jim's voice stilled any argument in Spock's throat. The blondes eyes stayed averted and decidedly dulled. "Can't you just skim it off the top or something? Not a real whammy but you get what you want to know."

Spock hesitated, knowing it was not a time to call out Jim's preference of metaphors. "If the parties involved were equally gifted with telepathic ability, and each profoundly well trained, it would be possible. Though humans as a majority are typically a psi-null species. It would have to be a decidedly powerful memory or emotion."

"It's powerful." Jim assured deadly.

_How could it not be._

The words lingered unsaid between them. To the blonde, the loss four years passed and still painful enough to cause such a raw reaction, had been that of a brother, Misha and Colt, a child that held the dual place of nephew and godson. Neither had borne the blood that ran in Jim's veins. The concept of chosen family was still somewhat strange to Spock but as time and experience passed between himself and the ranch, Jim and Cody, the idea of sharing a bloodline was becoming more and more abstract and obsolete.

Spock pried his grip from Jim's forearm, almost assured that the skin under his sleeve was possibly darkened by burst blood vessels or at least indented with his grip. Spock pulled his hand back. He worked the stiffness out of his knuckles and fingers before pushing Jim's sleeve up and wrapped his hand tightly around the blonde's wrist, laying his own into Jim's palm. The young human's fingers instantly locked around the joint tightly enough to bite into his flesh and pull at the discolored scar tissue ringed around the base of his radiocarpal.

Spock grit his teeth against the acidic burn of loss and pain that flooded from cooler, human skin and clogged the veins and blood flow in his arm. The whisper and hum of Jim's mind, once quiet and collected, was ringing and roaring in a wail that most human minds were at normalcy. Spock had become used to the whispered and low chatter that drifted across his mentalscape when Jim's skin contacted his own, used to the quiet, foreign push of a horse or dog against himself when his fingers traced an ear or curve of a nostril, used to the pure silence that came from Cody's brief ruffles of his his hair and tapped the edge of his temple. This, the crush back into what a human mind sounded like normally, it was deafening.

Jim's blood pulsed hot under Spock's palm, sizzling with emotional suffering. Nausea rolled Spock's stomach and his chest tightened around his internal organs, squeezing down as if his skin was shrinking. A shiver racked his through him and the jerk of muscle under his fingers enough to alert the hybrid the experience had been a shared one.

Disjointed and hazy edged thoughts not his own, muffled voices and noises that sounded more like tangled language, images that never focused and jumped erratically and thrashed around wildly bubbled and spewed noxiously against his consciousness and Spock was certain that no completely psi-null creature could be so easily read outside of a true meld, even in this literal pit of sorrow.

_Please... please be still_ the hybrid impressed, tightening his grip enough he heard the faint grind and creak of bones, it resulted in a fresh flare of physical pain and a little indigent anger, humming in a low growl warning Spock not to do it again.

The hybrid relaxed his grip some, immediately the growl quieted down into a whimper of raw ache in the symphony of grief. Spock felt bile starting to rise in his throat and tired to pull away, detach himself and reassess his approach, it took a bit of effort to pull his eyes open, vision blurred and hazy and shocked by the sudden bright lights around him.

He blinked a few times, his vision swimming and solidifying awkwardly and slightly concerned. The lights shouldn't have been so bright, this wasn't the dull yellow glow of Cody's kitchen.

_The hybrid looked around, the world falling into hazy place, walls slicked white and flooring that was slippery and shone sickly in brilliant, industrial white lights. The walls occupied by mounted vidscreens and stationary posters that flashed and flickered jumbled messages about health and sanitation and emergency care, the lettering looked almost alien and the images all had haunted eyes. It took a moment to place the sterilized corridor._

_Hospital_**Hell**

_The world was fractured and barely knit together, the spectral shapes and twisted faces of strangers__**demons **__in white coats and medical scrubs walked by with only the eerie, disjointed squeak of rubber soled shoes on the clean flooring. They moved in jerky_**unnatural**_ jumps forward instead of a steady walk. _

_It was not real_**reality**_. Not for Spock._

_A memory_**nightmare**_._

_How had he been pulled so deep into Jim's mind?_

_Spock looked around the memory, it felt solid and real, more like he was actually living through the experience. The young hybrid had never encountered a mind so vivid and stable, if this was the result of a touch of wrists and palms the idea of a true meld..._

_The memory echoed and the edges were frayed, the color had drained a little. Like a faded photograph paled an cracked in some places. Spock's steps echoed loudly in the white washed halls. Around him the phantoms of medical personnel_**monsters**_ and patients blurred, they were background noise, pointless in this world. _

_Sound came clearer from a specific place a head. Soft and mournful. Spock walked efficiently along the wall, following it around a corner as the sounds grew clearer. He started down the shorter hall and slipped through glass doors marked Intensive Care Unit_**Seventh Circle**_ in several Federation languages. Beyond these sealed doors Spock followed the voices and his feet passed a check point for nurses, visitors and physicians around another corner and to a isolation unit. The plexiglass walls and doors were obscured by a textured pattern turning the windows opaque. Spock could see the shadows and objects through the clouded glass. He approached and like the restriction doors slid open easily. _

_The sound becoming clear and defined. _

_There were two bio-hospice beds_**deathbeds**_. The screens lit up with a patchwork of information and vitals. Machines and equipment_**useless**_ cluttered the room, packed into all corners and clustered so close at the sides of the beds that there seemed little room to stand at them. There were a few small fixtures, vases of boldly colored flowers, cards and pictures tacked up on the wall, adding more color in the sepia toned world. Most of the pictures looked to be drawn by young children, images of animals and people. Spock couldn't help but compare the rough scribbles to the fine and detailed drawings Vulcan children would make. Spock looked around the room, he arched an eyebrow at the sight of two plush chairs along the glass wall. In one slumped the still form of Doctor Leonard McCoy__**BonesCaniwahu**__. The older man's head had fallen back over the back of the chair. His fingers and wrist were tangled in a chain of gold studded with beads of pale yellow stone and a large crucifix_**rosary**_ and a long coil of wood beads carved to look like miniature skulls_**mala**_. His skin was sallow, waxy shadows under his eyes and his clothes rumpled and his breathing hitching and pained. Around his throat was the short bead collar and charm of a medicine wheel, a slim gold chain and Christian crucifix._

_In a chair next to McCoy was the hunched figure of Jim. His appearance was similar to McCoy', his eyes dead and face marred by tear tracks. His arms were wrapped around his stomach_**won't eat**_ and every few minutes he gave a violent shiver_**dry heaves**_. _

_The bed next to them was empty and the other one was occupied by the wasted figure of the once handsome human Spock recognized from several photographs from the ranch home. _

_Misha_**BrotherWacignunihehaka**_. Cody's mate._

_His skin was paled and sickly, once sleek hair lank and the phantom scent of sweat and illness was heavy in the room. The man's arms were lined with i.v.s and tracking electrodes hooking him to the machines and bio-controls around him. _

_It was pointless. The low, eerie tone was the sole noise in the room, the readouts on the screen all freshly flatlined_**gone**_. _

_Spock turned his eyes to the last corner of the room, another uncomfortably plush chair occupied by the petite figure of Cody_**SisterIyaelainila**_. Cradled in the petite rancher's arms and lap was the too thin figure of the five year old child that always accompanied Misha in the photographs. _

_Colt_**Coltcoltcoltcolt**_._

_The boy resembled his father even in illness. His skin paled and discolored, hair drenched and laid flat with sweat. He shivered, though bundled in flannel pajamas and a hand made quilt. The blue patchwork and horse quilt Spock had seen folded up at the end of Cody's bed. Linked to his arm was an i.v. running to a standing pole next to her chair. _

_He chest was rattling every time he breathed, Eyes fluttered, showing slits of silver under his lids. _

_"Mommy..." Colt rasped brokenly. Cody felt the vibration of the small boy speaking and leaned back to watch his lips, read his words. Jim and Mccoy lifted their head and listened in the silence. _

_"Mommy... is Daddy okay?" The boy's hands made feeble twitches, trying to sign but failing miserably. _

_Cody's eyes flicked to the lifeless man on the bed. Then dipped her nose back into Colt's hair before lifting one hand and twitching out her signed response._

_**Yes.**_

_"He's quiet..." Colt rasped and shivered, eyes glassing over. _

_**He's asleep, baby. **_

_Cody lied easily and when it should have burned Spock's gut to see an adult lie to a child, he could only approve. _

_"He's tired alot Mommy... I'm tired alot..." Colt shook. "My head hurts..."_

_**I know.**_

_"It's okay sometimes... when my head hurts... Mommy, when my head hurts I can see the birds... like on the porch when it snows..." The five year old's words were slurred with exhaustion. "... Remember Mommy? When they're cold?"_

_**Course I do. **_

_Cody gave a pained and weak smile._

_**And they're all fluffed up, trying to keep the cold out.**_

_The boy's lips twitched in a small smile and he shivered, pulling the quilt closer. He buried his face in it and coughed a few times before sitting up again, lifting his head with years of training to make sure his mother could read his lips, understand him. _

_"When... when my head hurts they sing alot... in my room. It's like when we'd sit on the porch with Uncle Jim... can Doctor Caniwahu sit with us this year?"_

_**He's family, isn't he? **_

_"Will... he hear the stories... or is he like Daddy? And you have to... have to tell him over and over... until he knows what the birds are saying?"_

_**I think he'll be like Daddy, baby.**_

_"That's okay... Mommy there are birds here now... and snow... it's quiet... 'cept for the birds. It makes me tired...I'm tired and my head hurts Mommy..."_

_The read outs of the bio link to the boy flickered, hitching and slowing._

_"I'm gonna take a nap... snow makes me sleepy..."_

_Cody hesitated. __**Okay, baby. That's sounds alright.**_

_"Night... Uncle Jim... Doctor Caniwahu..."_

_Jim shivered and swallowed hard. "Night, Colt."_

_"Go kill some monsters, kid." McCoy rasped. _

_Colt's lips twitched up, then slipped as the read out faltered again. "Tell Daddy g'night..."_

_**I will.**_

_Colt's eyes slipped closed. "Night Mommy..."_

_**Love you baby.**_

_The five year old's wrecked breathing slowed and evened, he relaxed as sleep slipped into place. The minutes crawled by and the readings slowed, shutting down until a second, eerie tone filled the room along side Misha's as Colt slipped into oblivion. Silence hung for a moment before a broken sob ripped from Jim's chest._

_"God..." The young man openly wept, dropping his face into his knees and wrapped his arms around his head. McCoy's eyes slipped shut and tears bit through to slide down his jaw, letting his head fall back as he was racked with small convulsions. Cody drew the boy closer and rested her chin on the top of his head. Her eyes dry and body alarmingly still._

"Spock?"

Spock's focused and snapped his gaze over. Jim was wide eyed, staring at him in mild shock, his eyes flashed rapidly back and forth, studying Spock's face.

"You've gone white. God, don't pass out, hold on-" Jim pushed himself half up and started to pull away. Spock's hand tightened instantly on the blonde's wrist and pulled him back, grip tight enough that Jim flinched in pain and sank back into his chair. Spock looked around the kitchen in a daze, taking in the warm colored woods and terra cotta tiles, lingering scent of cooked food and warm bodies.

"Spock-"

"_S'ti th'laktra._" The hybrid croaked, his voice near broken with a rasp. As if he hadn't spoken aloud for years.

"What?"

"_S'ti th'laktra._" Spock repeated, his voice steadying and calming, his tone didn't alter as he changed over from Vulcan to Lakota. "_Miye ceye kici niye._"

The raw grief that Spock had been so completely submerged in for the last few moments slackened off and lessened, the wail of the blonde's emotions quieting, it hummed and the skin under Spock's fingers cooled marginally and the muscle relaxed. Jim swallowed heavily and gave a jerky nod, he licked his lips and his chest filling to speak.

The blonde's voice died in his throat as the oaken, then screen back doors swung open and Cody ducked back into the kitchen with a burst of frigid air. Her breath escaped in a cloud of vapor and she shook herself, as if to break the hold of the cold. The petite rancher absently signed across at them, not casting her eyes around as she started across the kitchen.

_**Night boys.**_

Spock's hand snapped out in a blur, catching Cody's wrist as gently as he could but the petite woman still jumped and jerked her arm as if to pull away before she realized what had happened. Her skin was still cool from the night air. Her grey eyes snapped to Spock, looking slightly spooked then dropped to where his fingers were locked around her forearm and back up.

The grief was there, just as painful and raw and ugly as it had been in Jim, it bit at him and Spock felt it run so deep in her that there was certainty it would never heal. The ache was accompanied by a puff of confusion and as her eyes flicked across Jim and the hybrid's joined hands concern. Unlike Jim all of Cody's emotions, no matter the strength, were completely silent.

She cocked her head slightly, eyes softening and she twisted her hand around to wrap her own fingers around Spock's wrist, locking the three of them together identically. Her face, tired and sorrowful, flooded with worry. She lifted her other hand.

_**Are you okay? Both of you?**_

"We're alright, Cody." Jim said softly.

_**What happened?**_

"Spock saw." Jim continued.

Cody's brow furrowed and she looked questioningly at Spock, her head cocking further and shook it in misunderstanding.

"_S'ti th'laktra."_ Spock said quietly, as he spoke Jim's free hand twitched out the translation. Grey eyes snapped and caught chocolate. She searched his face for a second before the weak smile returned. She heaved a silent sigh and stepped over, free hand reaching around and hooked under Spock's jaw, tilting his head as she pressed a kiss to the sleek, black hair above his ear.

Affection thrummed strong and clear across their connected skin. She breathed into his hair, ruffling it and puffing across his scalp. Hesitating before ghosting another kiss into place and pulled back. She sniffed and tightened her fingers around Spock's wrist before she gently pulled free, reluctantly Spock released his hold on Jim's wrist in turn and felt somewhat isolated after being in close connection with the other two for such an extended period of time.

"We're not sleeping tonight, are we?" Jim asked when Cody looked towards him. The petite rancher glanced back at Spock then shook her head.

"I believe the level of emotional trauma experienced in the last hour will greatly effect any efforts of sleep."

Jim sighed, "Then lets ride."

It was the first sleepless night that Spock spent in the arena with Cody and Jim in the company of horses; riding bareback and bitless, three abreast, until every muscle ached and breathing had become a labor.

By dawn Spock had absolved that the burn in his lungs was most agreeable with him.

The ache warmed him, sore muscles loosened only slightly as he worked through the stable barn, mucking out and bedding down stalls along side Jim while Cody fed, medicated and saddled Blackbird and Yellow Wolf.

"Mornin'."

Jim and Spock's heads snapped up at the soft tread of footsteps. The eldest male of the brothers walked stiffly, his eyes half lidded and hands tucked into the front pocket of a hooded sweatshirt emblazoned with the logo for the Sioux Falls Fire Department across the dark blue fabric.

Casper ambled up to Jim and Spock, he winked at Cody and she nudged him with an elbow as she walked passed.

"Hey Casper." Jim yawned and scrubbed his nose with the back of his forearm.

"Good morning, Casper." The hybrid greeted.

"Hey Spock. Hoksilato ya look like ya haven't slept."

"None of us did." Jim scrubbed at the dark, waxy circles under his eyes.

"There a good reason ya'll do a damn fool thin' like that?"

"Misha and Colt." Jim responded promptly and Casper's face fell. The large man sighed and rubbed the back of his neck then scrubbed his square jaw, stubble having grown into place over night.

"Got to talkin' last night, huh?" Casper's dark eyes flicked to Spock and back again.

"Something like that."

_**Casper, give Spock a hand while we're on the mountain.**_

Cody cast her gaze at the eldest male with grey eyes turned stone, warning no argument.

"Yes ma'am." Casper agreed to his elder sister. There had obviously been more to the look than Spock understood. Especially when Cody's eyes narrowed and the giant of a man shrank away from the petite rancher.

"I said alright." Casper muttered, looking slightly uncomfortable.

Cody narrowed her eyes again and glanced at Spock then moved right into Casper's face.

_**Any of you get any kind of ornery know I will end you.**_

"Okay! Hell. I thought age was supposed to mellow mares out."

Cody's fist thumped hard into Casper's side, making the firefighter jerk back with a muffled bark of pain and a snarl.

"That hurt goddamnit!" Casper snarled.

_**And call my hay guy. Kicks. The number's on the fridge, tell him I want sixty rounds and fifty bales, I'll come and get five rounds this weekend.**_

"Fine. Whatever ya want." The firefighter growled.

Jim chuckled and turned to the tacked Yellow Wolf. The blonde easily vaulted up into the saddle and slid his boots into the stirrups and lighted his hands on the reins. He leaned down towards the hybrid.

"Don't let 'em bully you, Spock. They're all push overs anyway, I swear."Jim assured and Spock dipped his head in assent.

Further down the line of stalls Cody climbed onto Blackbird's back and steered passed Jim. Spock quickly stepped back and averted his eyes from the the buckskin stud. Jim's eyes flicked towards the horse and bent in his saddle, reaching down to drop a hand on Spock's shoulder and squeezed tight before letting go and trotting after Cody.

Spock looked after them and the feeling of being let behind that settled in Spock's chest every morning that he watched the pair head out into the mountain pastures was abnormally strong.

"Got a look at the Thunderbird, huh?"

Spock's eyes snapped up to Casper and narrowed.

"'S alright, Spock. I know the signs. We've all had a glance at him one way or the other." Casper assured with a lopsided grin.

"I see."

"I bet ya did." Casper chuckled. "Just don't try to ride 'im. That one... that's the horse no man could ride."

"Surely that is an exaggeration. There must be a male capable of seating Blackbird." The hybrid absolved.

Casper huffed warmly, his dark eyes flickering with amusement. Spock turned his eyes away from the firefighter and settled on Jim's retreating back.

"It's not. I promise ya. See Spock some horses are different than others." Casper looked towards the hybrid and with quirked lips followed the line of Spock's sight to Jim and back. "Some horses were made to carry only one rider, were made to know only one hand."

"Illogical. Were a horse physically incapable of cooperating with a variety of riders and handlers it would lead to the discouragement and possible destruction of the animal."

"Well, if one of these one man horses was raised and handled right he could get along okay. But he'd always be missin' somethin'."

"You suggest such an animal, a 'one man horse' would only be completely fulfilled and self actualized when he or she was partnered with a particular individual that suits them as a true compliment."

"You got it." Casper's face softened and tilted in a long smile.

Spock's eyebrows tilted down and he slid his molars together.

Next to him Casper chuckled and sank his hands deeper into his hooded sweatshirt pocket.

"Can practically hear ya thinkin' over there, Spock."

"It is an interesting concept, Casper." The hybrid said quietly and turned back to the last two stalls. "One that must be thought of in depth."

Casper watched for a moment as Spock hefted two massive, plastic covered bales of bedding and a single one of fine cedar chips and tossed them into the nearest mucked out stall then repeated it for the last one in the line of boxes. The hybrid walked stepped into the nearest stall and crouched on his heels. Spock pulled the KABAR knife from his hip and easily sliced the cedar bale open and shook it out, kicking the chips around into a relatively even layer for drainage before slicing open the two bedding bales and layered it up in heaps and a thick, comfortable layer.

The firefighter hummed, leaning against the edge of the open stall door. "Bit hard to figure it not bein' raised with horses is it?"

"Indeed. I have only been exposed to the species and working with them for the duration of a nearly a month. I am still adjusting to the expectations that comes with the association." Spock kicked small heaps of bedding into the stall corners then carefully slipped passed Casper into the aisle and dropped the slashed plastic wrappers into trash bag already bloated with similar wrappers. Spock then stepped into the last stall to repeat the process. Casper followed him, leaning again in the stall door and surveyed Spock with interest and a slightly cocked head.

"It's a good thin' I grew up with Creek." Casper hummed under his breath before speaking up. "Well, ya got a good break at it with Sis and Hoksilato."

"This is your personal opinion?" Spock inquired.

"Hell yes. Ya said Jim's teachin' ya himself?"

Spock nodded, pushing cedar chips around.

"There ain't a soul in this universe better'n Jim to lay it in to ya. Hoksilato's a goddamn Whisperer."

Spock remained straightened momentarily to look over his shoulder at Casper before turning back to shake out one of the bedding bales..

Casper's eyebrows rose and the amusement didn't leave his eyes.

"Ya don't have any clue what a Whisperer is, do ya?"

"I have an idea of the concept." Spock defended sharply.

"But ya don't really... know. All ya got is what people, who weren't ever Whisperer's themselves, have written down and romanticized 'bout 'em. Right?"

Spock remained silent and Casper made a soft noise in his throat. The hybrid gathered the remaining plastic wrappers and stuffed them into the trash bag. He stepped into the aisle and patted the bedding and dust clear from his hands, sleeves and jeans.

"Spock..." He said at length and stepped over until he was near shoulder to shoulder with the hybrid and looked out into the yard and on the ranch home as it was slowly lit with the glow of the sun over the mountain peaks. "... when Jim was seven, we'd only known 'im for 'bout a year. One day that sonovabitch of the step father of his beat the Hell outta 'im again. Coulda killed 'im but Jim slipped out and ran. Nobody but Cody started lookin' for 'im for a couple hours and when they did start ligthin' up the feilds it was gettin' late."

Spock narrowed his eyes and his shoulders went tense.

"We looked for hours and I started thinkin' that either he'd really run for it or it'd been too much and he finally just rolled over and laid out. Middle of the night rest of the folks figured 'bout the same. Well Cody came and got our father and led 'im out to the barn and in one of the stalls. 'Tween the hooves of a Percheron stallion, Jim'd curled up and slept the day away. I'd never seen anyone so at peace, him and that damn horse. And that damn horse, that particular damn horse, had tried to kill everyone else that got in arm's length of 'im. Ya ever been try to be killed by a two thousand pound wall of muscle?"

Casper chuckled softly and looked towards the young hybrid at his shoulder. His face fell, confusion then horror sliding into place at the stoic and emotionless mask on Spock's face.

"Oh goddamnit, _please_ tell me ya knew."

Spock remained silent, every thought and system in his body had gone still, Casper's words ringing in his ears and burning across his mind.

"Spock. Please. Tell me ya knew."

"You will have to be more specific-"

"More specifi-!" Casper yanked himself back under control and grit his teeth and checked his voice. "I really need ya to tell me that ya knew 'bout Jim... 'bout 'im gettin' beat up when he was a pup."

"I am Vulcan, Casper. I cannot lie directly-"

"Goddamnit all!" Casper scrubbed his face and dug fingers into his cheeks. "Oh no."

"Casper-"

"Spock. Seriously. I swear, I figured he'da told ya. I mean, ya know, way he won't shut up 'bout ya... awe God."

"Casper. I detected, during your narrative, a certain level of casualty. It is very clear that you were under the impression that I was privy the information."

Casper sighed and hid his face in his hands.

"I also predict that you do not wish for me to disclose this slip to Jim."

"You better sure as Hell talk to 'im."

Spock's eyes snapped up to Casper's. The firefighter looked older and weary.

"I was bein' stupid and I told a story I wasn't mine to tell. Just... when ya decide to talk to 'im just tell 'im I told ya. He'll be pissed but he won't blame ya. Especially if ya do it right away, don't hold out on 'im. Since ya know, the sooner the better or he might start figurin' yer hidin' stuff from him."

"Understood. I will speak with him when he returns from the mountain."

A silence lingered between them.

"Ya alright Spock?"

_No._

Spock felt oddly detached from his own body and thought processes. He'd never been so far away from the workings and figurations of his own mind. The concept of the information that had been disclosed to him was so abstract and grotesque it wasn't truly settling in his mind. Liken to his experience with Time Machine, he simply did not understand why a rational and intelligent adult would lay their hand on another in violence, much less a child.

The idea made his stomach roll and brought bile into his throat , effectively choking him. The notion burned bitterly so soon after experiencing the still lingering, raw grief of Colt's loss.

The idea occurring in context with Jim's name, the idea that Jim had suffered not just as a youth and adult but since his earliest years of life.

"Course yer not alright. Ya look 'bout the same as I did when I found out." Casper sighed and Spock barely repressed a flinch at the intrusion of the eldest brother's voice.

"There is no mistaking your observations? Perhaps skewed by your age or a misconception altered by embellishment by youth."

"'Bout what happened to Hoksilato?"

"Yes. There is no room for error?"

Casper hesitated then sighed. "I wish there was."

Spock squashed a shiver.

"Casper, I wish to express to you that my disgust for the notion has nothing to do with Jim himself."

"What?" Casper cocked his head slightly.

"There is very little violence in my culture. Abuse is not something the occurs in our society. Mistreatment laid on a youngling is unheard of, even in the times before the Enlightenment. Losing a child is an unimaginable pain. One that in the spans of the last twelve hours I have learned is shared by our two races. I do not understand abuse, not the action itself or the reasoning and rational behind it. I do not think I can."

"So yer sayin' ya don't get why someone one would hurt a kid and ya don't blame Hoksilato for what happened to him."

"Indeed."

Casper smiled slightly and sadly before lightly draping and arm across Spock's shoulders. The young hybrid resisted jerking away.

"I'm with ya. Now we just gotta get Hoksilato to agree with us."

Spock's eyebrows rose into his hairline and Casper nudged him and grabbed the full trash bag with his free hand.

"C'mon Spock. I'll teach ya how to make flapjacks fit for a firehouse and ya can have a chat with Cokata. He's the one that worked Special Victims. I just put out fires." The firefighter steered Spock out of the stable barn and into the cold across the yard and ducking back into the ranch house.

The warmth and quiet was welcoming. The whole house was silent, the Brothers and their families still tucked into their borrowed beds, the attic silent with the Pups still curled in their sleeping bags, ears perked and noses twitched from the assorted German Shepherds, Rottweiler, Collie and Australian Shepherds scattered around the floor of the kitchen and into the living room. Curled up on the big pillow in the corner the Welsh Corgi Situpsa and the albino fawn Anahme wheezed and snored softly together. Casper set the bag of shredded plastic next to the door on the porch before walking light footed around the dogs. Spock started for the mud room and the large steel container full of dog kibble.

"I already fed 'em all Spock. No worries." Casper waved him off and started pulling bowls down from the shelves and ingredients from the refrigerator and pantry.

"Casper, are you aware that I cannot ingest any kind or form of animal products."

"Ya allergic?" Casper asked and instantly reached into the refrigerator to pull out the cartons of synthetic eggs and soy milk.

"The Vulcan culture is vegan by nature."

"Huh." Casper pulled down another large bowl and set it next to the first. "Learn somthin' new everyday. Other than Soli and ya I don't know any offworlders."

"Before meeting Jim and Cody had no knowledge of the Native American subculture." Spock confessed and deftly unlaced his boots and set them neatly amid the jumble of shoes just inside the mudroom. The hybrid twisted his toes in his socks, slightly damp from the length of time they'd been used. He stepped into the mudroom and riffled carefully through a wicker basket full of clean clothing, most of it his own, and extracted a pair of thick, woolen socks. Spock replaced his used ones and set them into a basket of dirty laundry waiting to be done and crossed back into the kitchen. He quickly did a similar swap out of his thermal and layered tee shirt then pulled the AQHA hooded sweatshirt back into place.

Nemo A534 rose from the floor and moved over to greet him, the hybrid stroked the dog's ears and thick fur and moved to where Casper had set up a thick sheet of metal over the four burners of the stove, greasing it with cooking spray and turning on the burners under it.

Casper motioned him closer and pushed one of the bowls in front of the hybrid and the assorted ingredients spread between them on the counter top.

"As you stated that what we are about to concoct was 'fit for a firehouse' I am to assume that there is an exceptional quality to them."

"Let me tell ya somethin' bout firefighters, Spock. They're constantly on the edge of starvation and picky. Very delicate palates for a bunch of smoke-eaters. If it ain't good, they ain't gonna eat it."

"I see."

"Alright Spock, just do what I do. Hoksilato'll probably appreciate yers better anyway seein' as if ya look at 'im funny he falls down dead in anaphylactic shock." Casper opened the massive glass container full of flour and set to work. Spock mimicked him perfectly, stirring the thick batter with more reserve than the firefighter and copied the large spoonful tipped onto the griddle surface, waiting patiently for the batter to thicken and rise, studded with bubbles to flip it over. Sooner than naught a tall stack of near perfectly shaped and sized pancakes on a large plate separate from Casper's own. The firefighter had begun to improvise, creating shapes in the batter. Awkward and lopsided animals marched across the griddle in misshapen parade. All the while Casper kept up a constant, low chatter about everything and nothing all together.

The back door opened and Spock stilled, turning and felt a twinge in his gut when Creek ambled in out of the cold. The doctor preferred to sleep on the plush sofa in the miniature game room in the Workshop, even if it involved a short walk through frigid air first thing in the morning and in the depth of night. His own jaw was lined with the stubble similar to Casper's, his long raven feather hair loose and draped around his neck and shoulders.

"Hey Mniohlateinyan." Casper hummed.

"Greetings Creek."

"Good morning Casper. Spock." Creek rolled his shoulders and moved around his eldest brother and the hybrid to get to a pot of coffee Casper had started. Spock pulled down a stack of plates and set them onto the table top next to the ceramic container filled with silverware. Casper followed him with a small plate heaped with a thick pat of butter and two glass pitchers full of different flavored syrup, maple and strawberry.

"May I ask a personal query, Creek?"

"By all means." The doctor waved him on with a dip of his head.

"Will you explain to me the meaning of 'Mniohlateinyan'? My fluency in Lakota is progressing but the meanings of names is still beyond my capabilities." Spock set the platter of vegan pancakes on the table top as Casper did the same on the other side of the table.

"It means 'Water Under Stone', " Casper smirked. "It's his name inside the tribe. Like mine is 'Petamato'. Fire Bear."

"A secondary name?" Spock asked.

"It's a name we've earned, granted to us when we entered the tribe as men. Given to us to describe ourselves. Some defining mark of our personalities or design." Creek explained with a slightly cocked head.

"Or after somethin' that happened to us that we were honored for. It's a Call Sign for our Nation."

"Call Signs are the devil." A gravel voice ground out, the trio turned to see the youngest brother Cikala stagger into the kitchen and drop himself non to gently into the nearest chair at the table. The Narcotics officer scrubbed a hand through his hair, tugged at the missing chunk of his ear and wrinkled his nose before yawning. His blue hazel eyes clouded and mucky with sleep.

"Call Signs are a part of the military culture, are they not?" Spock questioned.

"Yeah. But they're not nearly as 'honorable' as the names in the Nation." Cikala snorted and took a offered mug of coffee from Casper.

"Your brothers refer to you as Wahacaka." Spock prompted.

"Shield." Cikala agreed. "Cokata's 'Glietahawicate'. Returned From Death."

Spock turned his eyes towards Creek, eyebrows raised towards his hairline.

"When Cokata was shot he underwent multiple hours of intense surgery and died and was revived several times on the operating table. At one point he'd flatline for two minutes." Creek assured.

"Remarkable." Spock said lowly.

"He always was the most badass." Casper rumbled with a grin and sipped his coffee.

"Leonard's 'Caniwahu', Sawbones. Misha was 'Wacignunihehaka', Wandering Elk." Cikala continued.

"Didn't have a sense of direction. He'd get lost walkin' in a circle." Casper's laughter rumbled deep in his chest. Cikala and Creek's lips quirked up in their own slight smiles.

"Jim's 'Hoksilato'. Blue Child. The eyes. " Creek commented.

"And Sis is 'Iyaelainila'." Casper finished off stretching his back one last time and started for the entrance of the kitchen into the den.

"What does this mean?" Spock prompted, remembering hearing the name hummed along the edges of Jim's memory.

"Speaks in Silence." Casper said over his shoulder.

"Cody earned her name pretty early in life." Cikala muttered into the side of his mug.

"I am told she cannot speak because she cannot hear and therefore is incapable of repeating sound. Is... is it distasteful to contemplate what Cody's voice would sound like?" Spock asked tentatively.

The brothers smiled together.

"Naw Spock. We've all wondered that one time or another. Just wait until Caniwahu shows up, he'll wax poetic 'bout fixin' Sis' hearnin' and speech therapy." Cikala sighed.

"Not so much recently." Casper protested. "He's laid off 'bout it."

"Good." Cikala growled.

"He meant no offense. He posted the proposition out of an overwhelming emotional response to guilt concerning his inability to make significant difference in the past. He blames himself for our loss." Creek hummed out factually.

"The loss of Misha and Colt." Spock interjected.

Cikala tensed. "How ya know 'bout that."

"Is is not obvious that his close friendship with Hoksilato would result in some confidences exchanged and disclosed to one another?" Creek cocked his head to the side sipped at his coffee. "Am I correct, Spock."

"Indeed." Spock said honestly. "I concur with Creek. The loss of a patient during our recent deployment resulted in similar behavior and reaction concerning responsibility and pacification."

"Not a great way of makin' amends." Cikala snapped.

"Bury it Cikala." Casper bit out harshly. "Yer the only one that's got a problem with 'im and ya didn't use to. Ya need to break this grudge."

The Narcotics officer huffed but locked his teeth. The brothers quieted until Casper huffed in acceptance. It seemed that in absence of the true alpha, Cody, Casper took up the position. Casper leaned out of the doorway and let out a bone rattling whistle that pitched high enough to make Spock wince. The assorted dogs scrambled up to their paws and jerked their heads around at the noise before scattering around the room and bounding away deeper into the house. Nemo A534 sided up to Spock and stayed at his hip, sitting back on his haunches and tipping his nose up towards the scent of the pancakes.

"Let's go! Chow!" The firefighter boomed into the house then stepped back. Above and around them the muffled sounds of people stirring and shuffling away from sleep filled the quiet.

"May I ask, Spock, are these vegan pancakes?" Creek asked motioning towards the cooling stack Spock had made.

"They are."

"Very good." Creek agreed and pulled a plate free and helped himself to two of the cakes, drowning them in strawberry syrup.

"Don't tell me ya've gone and turned into a hay burner." Cikala huffed.

"A vegan diet is an extremely healthy one and consistent with longevity. Thought I will set your mind at ease that I do and will continue to consume meat and animal products." Creek assured and fell on a large mouthful of pink stained pancake, he made a small sound of approval.

"This is you're first attempt?" He asked after he'd swallowed.

Spock nodded and the odd brother made another noise of assent and fell back to his meal. Cikala hefted a plate and put one of each Spock's and Casper's pancakes on his platter muttering about 'trying anything once', prompted by the older men Spock took his own pancakes and mimicked Creek with a large dollop of strawberry syrup. He managed to swallowed two delicately cut bites before what sounded like a small landslide, rumbled down the stairs and tumbled into the kitchen.

The Pups were still sleepy eyed and wearing rumpled pajamas, their hair fluffed and askew they stumbled into the room the twins clutching identical stuffed horses, Suri adjusting his slight framed glasses and Toweya looking a little cranky.

Cikala reached over and ruffled his daughter's hair. "Why do ya look like ya ate artichoke?"

"'M tired, Daddy. Leave me alone." Toweya said snappishly, expressing a similar volatile personality of her sire. Her eyes narrowed warily. "Pancakes?"

"Spock and Uncle Casper made 'em." Cikala assured.

Toweya relaxed slightly and behind her the other three pups chirped softly in agreement.

"Good, 'cause ya cain't cook, Daddy."

"That's not a very nice thing to say." Casper rumbled with quirked lips as her set a pancake shaped like a horse on Maza's plate and one shaped like a rabbit on Magazu's, drowning both with maple syrup and passed them over to the twins who had settled themselves in the same place that they had taken dinner the night before along with forks, napkins and turned to start filling a row of glasses with creamy milk.

"It's true though." Toweya shrugged and like her father took one of each and settled herself across from the twins.

"Hi Spock." Suri hummed shyly and offered a tired smile to the elder hybrid.

"Good morning, Suri. Did you obtain a necessary amount of rest?"

Suri blinked. "Kinda, the twins wouldn't sleep. Uncle Casper can I have one of each?"

"Sure kiddo." Casper smoothed the Aenar half breed's dark hair back as easily as if the boy was his own and mocked up the plate.

"Thanks Uncle Casper." Suri took his plate and joined his cousins.

"Sorry I'm late." Cokata's warm, low voice hummed through the quickly rising noise of the kitchen, his hands skimming over the curve of his wheels and rolled quietly into the kitchen with the three spouses in his wake. "Found some damsels that needed a little rescuin'."

"Always the champion, ain't cha wheels?" Cikala muttered and choked when the wheelchair bound brother smacked him sharply across the backside of his head.

"Don't talk with yer mouth full Wahacaka." Cokata snorted and rolled across the kitchen floor and reached for the coffee bubbling happily on the stove top, pouring himself a large mugful. Marie, Tessa and Soli turned to the table, greeting their husbands and offspring with soft motherly smiles and whispered words before helping themselves to pancakes and syrup.

A few long moments passed and the quiet, comfortable chatter and eating was interrupted when the door opened. Dogs rushed out as Jim and Cody stalked in, each shaking a little from exhaustion and cold.

"Hey!" Cokata said cheerfully then his face and the faces of each brother fell. "Hoksilato, Sis, ya look like Hell."

"Remind you of your mirror, huh?" Jim sighed and scrubbed the back of his hand across his eyes.

"Did either of ya sleep?" Cikala asked with knit brows as he stuffed another overlarge cut of pancake in his mouth and chewed it loudly.

_**Not all of us get to freeload off their big sisters for the holidays, Cikala.**_ Cody yawned mutely around her twitching hand and steered towards the coffee. Jim bypassed and headed for the entrance of the kitchen and most likely his bedroom.

"Ya sick, Hoksilato? Ya just walked passed a table full of food." Casper teased lightly.

"Nap." Jim muttered over his shoulder, his skin looking pale and slightly ashen in the light of the day and kitchen. A tell of his exhaustion, Spock felt his insides twist a little unhappily seeing him in such a state.

"Spock made some hypoallergenic pancakes himself so ya don't die." Casper pitched his voice a little louder.

Jim made a quick turn about face on his heel and walked back to where Sock was sitting, reached passed the Vulcan hybrid and pulled a fork free of the ceramic container. Spock sat back a little as Jim bent over his plate, neatly sliced the side of the fork into Spock's half eaten pancakes, speared the double chunk, swirled it through the pool of pink. Jim spun it once before popping it into his mouth, smoothly pulling the fork between lips.

He chewed almost mechanically before some life sparked back into tired cerulean eyes and he made a small noise of contentment.

"Those are good." He mumbled making a small bubble of warmth low in Spock's stomach that resembled ones he'd felt as a child and praised by an elder. "Save me a couple."

Jim tossed the fork into the sink as he turned back towards his first intention to retreat from the kitchen and company. The sound of the blonde man making his slow way up the stairs.

"Hey." Spock's eyes snapped to Casper. The firefighter jerked his head in Jim's wake.

"Excuse me." Spock said quietly and pushed himself to his feet, Nemo A534 danced back a little and walked closely on Spock's heels. He quietly followed Jim's trail, feeling a few glanced of the brother's on his shoulder blades.

"What was that 'bout?" Cikala muttered lowly, just loud enough for Spock's sharpened hearing to catch his voice.

Spock rolled his shoulders slightly and lightly bounded up the steps to the second floor and moved smoothly down the hall and slid carefully through the gap of Jim's door, the one eyed Shepherd followed dutifully. His knuckles brushing the wood just firm enough to make a noise. Jim jerked himself out of his closet, stripped down to only a pair of fresh jeans and bare feet.

"Hey Spock. Great pancakes. I swear I'll eat when I have the will to chew." Jim huffed tiredly, his lips tilted up in amusement as he pulled down his hooded sweat shirt marked with the medicine wheel, horses and Red Tail Hawk feather logo for Native Sky Ranch embroidered across the back. He looped it over an arm and dug into one of the drawers of his dresser and pulled out a white tee shirt. Then tugged on the hooded sweatshirt, pulling it low around his waist.

"I did not seek you out concerning the meal, thought the compliments are welcome."

"Oh... did you want to take a nap or something?" Jim motioned towards the bed dressed up with bed clothes and comforter of russet and tawny.

"No-"

"Awesome." Jim tumbled gracelessly into his bed and shamelessly dug under the comforter and sheets, Nemo A534 leap up into the bed next to him, nuzzling into his own navy and gold blanket in one corner of the bed.

"Go sit in the chair."

Jim's voice was muffled and muttered under the layers of fabric. Spock obliged, moving and seating himself lightly in the plush chair. Half a second later Jim had roughly shoved his russet comforter off the bed and to the floor at Spock's feet and grabbed both of his plush pillows. The blonde rolled over to lay crosswise on his bed and face Spock. He tucked one pillow between his knees and hugged the other into his chest and pressed his cheek into it.

"Use the blanket. You look like you've got something you want to say." Jim muttered into the pillow and sighed contentedly. Spock bent and pulled the comforter up around his frame, bundling into it and soaking in the scent of Jim on the fabric. The hybrid settled himself back into the chair, crossing his legs neatly in the seat and sighed softly.

"What Spock?"

"It is of a personal nature."

One cerulean eye flickered open. "It's fine. Whatever you want to say I'll listen."

"You're personal nature Jim." Spock advanced slowly, picking his words carefully.

"I'm going to take a shower." Jim huffed with a lightened tone of offense, his lips quirked slightly.

"Jim."

The blonde sobered and shifted his head around on the pillow to see Spock better.

"What?" He coaxed quietly.

"This morning Casper divulged to me information that he was unaware that I was not yet privy too. He suggested that I speak to you concerning the matter as quickly as the situation allowed."

Jim watched him, tensing slightly and Spock wondered briefly if this was the catalyst that would finally cause Jim to bolt.

"About what Spock?"

"Concerning the fact that you were brutalized regularly as a child."

The air the flowed out of Jim's chest rattled and clinked like a quarter in a can. A painful wheeze of a noise. Then silence, Jim's eyes shut and breathing so shallow and light it almost wasn't audible.

"Jim?" The hybrid asked softly.

"What do you want me to say Spock?" Jim asked.

Cerulean eyes opened slowly and they looked dull and glazed.

"What am I supposed to say? You want to hear the stuff I told teachers and school counselors?"

"I wish to hear that the allegations were untrue."

"They weren't."

The finality sent a rush of bitterness through the hybrid and he was startled by and quickly suppressed a growl. He grit his teeth until a sharp spike of pain ran through his gums.

"There's nothing I could have done-"

"You could have sought help."

"Then what?" Jim snapped. "I tell someone. Then they take me away. Then someone else gets the heat. Someone has to take my place. Better me than my mom."

Spock swallowed heavily, knowing internally that if faced with the same situation Spock would have no less to protect his own mother.

"It doesn't matter anymore Spock. Hell, some good came of it."

Spock nearly snarled, tension wired through him like a current. "Good?"

"It's how I got mixed up with the Chicalatos. Ben was the local Sheriff, he was off duty hacking out with Cody and he caught a call for domestic disturbance. He was the closest so he was first responder. I don't remember it, I was semi-conscious, blood was pooling in my brain. Ben put me up in the saddle with Cody and she ran me to the hospital. When I woke up she was sitting with me. Been there ever since."

Spock drew a long breath.. "How old were you?"

"Six."

"Your mother-"

"Off planet."

Spock settled into silence for a long moment, listening to the slowly evening sound of Jim's breathing.

"I don't want to talk about it anymore Spock."

"I wish only to say that I plead to you that do not look upon this as a blessing. Not matter what may have come of it."

Jim sighed then gave a small, jerky nod. The hybrid nodded in turn and settled lower in the chair, casting his eyes out the row of plane windows and over the paddocks and pastures.

"You're going to sit there, aren't you?"

"The probability is high."

Jim huffed a noise that sounds like somewhat like an exhausted laugh but made no other noise, just turned his face a little deeper into the pillow and went still. Spock mimicked the stillness and listened intently more than watched. Still slightly rocked in his core he focused on the smoothing and shallowing breath of Jim as the blonde dozed and eventually drifted. Spock listened to the even rhythm, letting his eyes drift shut and the thoughts start to fall away, soothing himself by detachment from the more conscious workings of his mind.

Sleep was the last thing Spock intended to do but he must have drifted because the float and drift of near nothingness broke with a light pressure on his shoulder. Chocolate eyes opened slowly and blinked away any kind of bleariness to look up at the seafoam grey pools of Cody's face. She smiled gently.

_**Better get the blood pumping again or you won't sleep tonight.**_

She chided gently with a few twitches of her fingers.

Spock cast his eyes towards the curled form of Jim, the blonde was balled up around his core, a soft wheeze of a noise whistling out his nose and lips.

_May I inquire the time?_

_**About six. **_

_You allowed us to sleep for nine hours?_

_**You needed it. **_

Spock doubted that any Vulcan needed none hours of sleep when an average of four a night could be considered sloth.

_**Want to help me with bedding down the horses?**_

Spock nodded and slowly extracted himself from the cocoon of warmth under the russet comforter. He shivered a little at the drop of temperature but roused himself completely. He moved to lay a hand on Jim's shoulder.

_**Let him alone there, Spock. He needs the sleep. He's a bit tore up.**_

_Tore up?_

_**The whole thing with Colt and Misha and not sleeping, then we went up to the mountain to the worst kind of thing.**_

_What happened? _Spock tried to put some kind of sharpness into the movement of his hands, indicate his concern.

_**Lost a couple to wolves last night.**_

Spock's eyebrows arched into his hairline. The instance of lost cattle to a predator had only happened once before in the last month. The night had been marked by an eerie silence from the phantom Hota and the Lost Trail pack. It took a moment for Spock to recall that the night before the mountain had been void of wolf song as well.

_How many?_

_**Two. Couple of heifers. If the six that have gone to predators is all I lose this year it's a good one. But leave Jim be. With all that and Casper told me what happened so I figured you two were up here hashing it out. He's probably burnt out. **_

Spock nodded and cast his eyes back over his shoulder once to make sure of Jim and Nemo A534 before following on Cody's heels into the hall and down stairs.

Sprawled across the den floor were the Pups and the visiting dogs with an assortment of toys, trinkets and stuffed animals, they chattered and divided their attention between each other and a vid screen playing some kind of animated movie. In the center of their circle was the poly puppy fat form of Matoha, gurgling around a teething ring and occasionally letting out a shriek. Surveying them from the sofa were Marie, Soli and Tessa. Parked next to the sofa was Cokata in his wheel chair. The counselor lifted his head in a jerk of acknowledgement.

The kitchen was unoccupied, but the muffled rumble of noise drifting up from below the floor boards gave way that the other three brothers were likely taking liberties of the game room in the Workshop. Spock followed dutifully on Cody's heels and moved to take up Jim's chore of opening the stable barn doors and calling the horses in.

Spock pushed the doors back, sliding them along the rail and edged to side, took a deep breath and let out a long sharp whistle. It had taken Jim three days to explain the physical functions that entailed whistling and still Spock was not able to create or mimic the pitches and range of sounds that Jim and Cody did. But his singular accomplishment of the long call was enough. He stepped back as he hair ruffled and swept in the wake of the herd galloping into the aisle and wheeled into their stalls. Cody had already pulled out and cut free two bales of hay to pass out and retreated to portion out grain. Spock pulled his cloth gloves into place, working them around his fingers before gripping a flake in each hand and tossing them lightly into the stalls, shortly followed by Cody dumping grain. He took up mixing supplements and vitamins while Cody mocked up the injections and orals. Once each animal was dosed and Cody's expert eye cast over for any kind of injury or strain and the stall and barn doors were shut and locked tight.

The air froze in Spock lungs when they stepped out of the stable barn. He shivered a little against the frigid air. Montana was getting colder by the day and it still hadn't even suggested the snow and ice storms that came in with the true winter. The air was getting harder to breathe as the air got colder.

Another tremor rippled through him and Cody's hand lighted on the small of his back. Spock tensed slightly at the touch but Cody only gave him a small push, urging him into a short stride jog. They trotted the set of the way across the yard and ducked into the kitchen, the warmth easing Spock's breathing exponentially. He tugged off the cloth gloves and tucked them into the pocket of his corduroy jacket before tugging the garment off and laying it across the back of a chair.

He looked up and stopped.

Jim was sitting at the far end of the table, his eyes tired and half lidded,edge of his jaw perched on one braced hand and the other wrapped loosely around a half full coffee mug and Nemo A534 pressed close to his knee, head in Jim's lap. He flicked exhausted eyes up at Spock and gave a twitch of his lips that might have been a smile.

"Why when I sleep does it seem like I haven't?" The blonde muttered and shut his eyes.

"Perhaps you should seek medical attention concerning the matter." Spock suggested. Jim huffed a noise into his palm and absently drew a mouthful from his mug.

Cody gave a sharp, short whistled and both young men turned towards her.

_**What do you want to eat?**_

"What are you making?" Jim asked.

_**Whatever you want to eat.**_

Jim sighed and worked his jaw and made a few clicks and sucking pop noises between his teeth.

"Spock you ever had pasta primavera?"

The hybrid shook his head.

"Awesome. Pasta primavera." He signed the words as he spoke them, making sure Cody caught them. The petite rancher nodded and dove in, pulling out pans and pots, filling some with water and setting to boil and others lined with oil. She dug into the refrigerator pulling out and started slicing up vegetables, and dumping them into a low pan to simmer and saute, generously coating them with spices. Within a few minutes Spock's stomach gave a content twist at the scent of cooking vegetables. He helped himself to some of the boiling water and mixed a large cup of tea and refilled Jim's coffee before sitting next to the blonde at the table.

For a time Spock was at peace, relaxing slightly in the kitchen and save for the small noises below and floating in from the den he was alone again with Jim and Cody. Canteska snoring slightly, curled under the table, Wagi dozing with Situpsa and Anahme on the large pillow in the corner. It was as if the last forty eight hours had not passed. Spock drew in deep breaths of the tea and listened to the sound of Cody working and Jim breathing. He reach to lightly stroke his hand down Nemo A534's head and ears occasionally.

"You want to get into a saddle tonight?"

Spock twitched his head to the side. "Yes."

"We'll work a couple hours on it later tonight. Promise me you'll keep a light hand on the reins. I can't handle anyone that sits around yanking on a soft mouth."

"I have never held reins before therefore will only know who to hold them in the way you show me."

"Fair enough."

Cody moved the middle of the kitchen then harshly stomped her booted foot on the floor three times.

The sounds from below stopped for a second then started up again. Cody twisted and gave a short, sharp whistle.

"Comin'!" Cokata called from the den and the sounds of the Pups being rounded up mixed with the low rumble that accompanied the brothers making their way up from the Workshop and into the back door of the kitchen. The petite rancher side stepped n front of them to lay another platter near Spock cluttered with chunks of hard and soft cheeses made at the ranch from Cody's diary cattle, along with a few small knives and a hand grater.

"There they are!' Casper huffed seeing Spock and Jim at the table. "Everythin' square?"

"For now." Jim shrugged a shoulder and sat back as Cody set a large platter of thick slices of toasted bread seasoned with garlic and butter. Jim easily lifted one from the plate and stuffed half of it into his mouth before cody had the chance to lightly box his ear. Jim winced and muffled out a curse as he chewed.

"Language." Casper, Cokata and Cikala warned and the blonde grumbled again and swallowed heavily before getting up from his chair and urging for Spock to do the same. Within a few minutes the arranged seats form the night before were taken up again. Spock leaned against the cabinets, his flank pressed into Jim's knee where the blonde had perched himself on the countertop next to the sink.

"Smells good there, Sis." Casper huffed, leaning over the pan and simmering sauce.

Cody waved him off and quickly started filling plates with the strained noodles, then heaping each with a layer of the thick sauce and vegetables before passing them out. Getting the Pups settled before passing off to Spock, then Jim, the brothers and wives before serving herself and taking up her place at the head to the table.

Jim and Spock kept their places near the sink, avoiding the cheeses each for their own reasons and stayed mostly to themselves, listening to the brothers and Pups chatter. Spock savored the vegetables in the sauce slowly as after everyone was served there was little left. The flavors of tomato, broccoli, mushrooms and olives blended easily with the garlic, salt and oregano. His attention turned fully to Jim when the blonde insisted on showing Spock the right way to coil noodles on his fork with a clutter of vegetables in the center, a more delicate under taking than it appeared.

Their attention was turned away as the late hour claimed Marie, Tessa and Soli who ushered the Pups out of the room with a fair amount of whining and bargaining. It was only then, as Cody started another pot of coffee, that Spock became aware that only he and Jim were still working their way through the meal. The brothers had resigned to popping cut chunks of cheese and turned to untapped conversation with the two Starfleet officers.

"So, Hoksilato, I was thinkin'-" Cikala rumbled.

"Did you hurt yourself?" Jim chirped to a round of encouraging noises from the brothers.

"Shut up, astro boy." Cikala huffed as his siblings laughed at his expense for the small barb. Spock glanced at Cody who was leaning on the counter next to him. The woman's face split into a grin.

"Anyway, ya know how yer whole deal is the exploration and expansion thin'?"

"No I wasn't aware." Jim teased and nearly toppled into Spock dodging out of the way when Cikala hurled a cut piece of garlic toast at the blonde's head. The brothers whooped and Cody shook her head and sighed silently. Cikala looked slightly agitated but still in good humor. Spock continued to work his way slowly through the remains of his meal.

"What I wanted to ask yer smart ass was how come ya'll don't mark destinations 'this planet, ya are food'? Huh? I mean ya'll seem to go to alot of places where yer the bottom of the fuckin' food chain, in some personal journal somewhere does it say on some planets 'here ya be a deli snackcake'?"

By the time Cikala was finished speaking Cokata, Casper and Jim had dissolved into barks of laughter with Creek looking bemused in his corner of the table. Jim near choking, gasping to catch his breath, slowing himself down and scrubbing a hand across his eyes.

"Goddamn. That... that's a good idea. Spock, start that log." Jim lightly nudged the hybrid's shoulder.

"Yes, Captain. I shall start the 'Human Ratioed to Deli Snackcake Planetary Log' on departure of the next deployment."

Jim blinked at him, cerulean eye wide. His head snapped around and pointed accusingly at Cikala.

"You got Spock to make a joke!"

The brothers huffed in laughter and Cikala rolled his eyes.

"Finally! The Coyote is back!" Jim whooped.

"Yeah." Casper growled. "Where the Hell ya been?"

"What?" Cikala grumbled.

_**You've had a bitterness streak for the last two years. **_Cody singed truthfully.

"I have not!" Cikala defended.

Cody shook her head.

"It's true, Wahacaka." Jim muttered, tangling a few noodles on his fork with a mushroom cap. "You're not the Coyote anymore. I can't remember the last time you made a joke that wasn't sarcastic."

"Or morbid." Casper sighed.

"Or at the expense of another." Creek agreed.

"Not to mention the tiff you had with Bones and now you've had a three year grudge going."

Cikala rolled his eyes. "What does it matter?"

"Well, you know, it's a little out of character seeing as how you've never had a grudge in your LIFE!" Jim snorted.

_**Jim's right. you've strayed from you nature Cikala.**_

Cikala sighed. "Fine, I changed a little-"

"A little!?" Casper growled.

Spock twitched slightly, the sound of a door opening and shutting quietly reached him. He tensed, waiting and watching the entrance to the kitchen, loosing sense of the riotous brothers, Jim and the silent influence of Cody. His eyebrow lifted when the solid, familiar frame of Doctor Leonard McCoy slid into view and stood in the archway with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

The physician's chocolate eyes roved over the group, sparked with some kind of light Spock had no name for. McCoy caught his eyes, giving a slight dip of the head before catching the attention of the sole Chicalato female.

Cody's head lifted, she looked slightly disbelieving for a heart beat before a small smile crept to her lips, her face softening eyes warming. In stead of signing her lips moved, shaping a single title without voice.

'Len'

McCoy lifted his hand and gave a slight, gentle twitch of his large hand. Cody returned it, almost shyly.

She didn't react when Casper snapped his fingers in her direction.

"Hey, Sis, still with us?" The older brother rumbled good naturedly and looked to the object of Cody's attention. He went still, face going slack.

"Caniwahu." He rasped and the brothers and Jim sat up like hunting dogs at attention.

"Bones?" Jim sniffed, eyebrows in his hairline.

"Hey Jim. Hey fellas." McCoy hummed.

The brothers chorused at the top of their lungs, "Caniwahu!"

They nearly knocked over the table, scrambling to tackle McCoy, Cokata and Cikala hanging back as the others went about bringing the doctor down with a grunt and curse in a coltish pile of joy. They barked and mouthed like puppies, landing gentle blows and rolling each other over in a mass of euphoric brotherhood. They tumbled and thundered in play before settling enough to climb back to their feet, embracing as if like depended on it, bringing back into the fold their wayward 'sibling'.

McCoy's face was flushed, lips broken into a wide grin, hair mussed and panting. Spock had never seen the doctor so jovial and relaxed. He hugged Jim tightly and ruffled the hair of the brothers he could reach, reasserting himself as the eldest of the group along side Cody.

The petite woman had her hands steepled over her nose and mouth, not hiding a grin well, her eyes bright pools of grey, watching McCoy intently.

The medical officer's eyes drifted to the two brothers still at the table. "Cikala. Ya look good."

"Back at cha, Caniwahu." Cikala's tone was just as formal as McCoy's had been. The medical officer then reached out towards Cokata. The brother in the wheelchair easily wrapped his fingers around McCoy's wrist.

"Cokata, hey."

"Caniwahu. Ya look like ya run all the way here."

"Feels like."

McCoy resigned himself an eased down to where Creek had been sitting, allowing Jim to snake his duffle, pausing to lift a respectful hand to Spock, acknowledging him.

Afterwards McCoy gave the brothers his full attention, explaining his complications with the _Enterprise_ crew's medical records but Spock couldn't help but notice from time to time that his eyes drifted to Cody, who engaged in silent pacification and conversation with Cikala, returned the looks from the corner of her eye and through her lashes.

Spock kept a careful log of observation but turned his attention to the rest of the brothers and Jim, listening to their own tangents of conversation and banter. The night wore on and slowly the brothers dropped off, slipping off to their borrowed beds, only Cokata, Jim, McCoy, Cody and himself remained in the quieted room, sipping coffees and tea in Spock's case.

"So Caniwahu." Cokata rumbled, running a hand through his cropped hair.

"Right here, it's ready to file if we need it." The doctor dug into his pack and extracted a PADD, turning it over to the counselor. Jim rose and jogged out of the room, returning with a laptop computer, quickly cracking it open and booting up the operating systems before setting it between Cokata and the medical officer.

"Alright. Got yer gut under control?" Cokata took the documents and skimmed through them. McCoy nodded and Cokata's flitted his finger over the keyboard of the laptop before spinning it around, showing an open communication's window in the process of completing a connection and waiting acceptance on the other end.

"I inquire what is happening." Spock asked and Jim and Cokata promptly sushed him, the former moving away so that McCoy was the only one in line of the communication's window.

A few long minutes passed and Spock noticed McCoy's hands fidgeting under the table, tough his face stayed stoic and calm. The window hummed happily and blinked to the picture of a pretty woman a few years McCoy's junior. She had large, expressive eyes and a mane of thick, blonde hair spilling down her shoulders. Her throat was long and slim and her face round and soft.

At least for a moment.

The second she caught sight of and registered McCoy her face hardened into bitter ice, jaw locking and her eyes brimming with hatred.

"Hello Jocelyn." McCoy said confidently and calmly.

"What do ya want Leonard." The woman all but snapped. McCoy's demeanor didn't change but he didn't try and make small talk, getting right to business.

"I wanted to talk to ya 'bout keepin' Joanna for a bit, I'm on Earth. on Liberty, for a few months, stayin' with some friends. I wanted to have Joanna over the holidays. We're gettin' deployed after, probably for a couple of years-"

"Never Leonard." Jocelyn snarled. "Joanna's not yers anymore. Ya don't have any rights to her."

McCoy stiffened in protest. "She's my daughter-"

"No. Ya got any more questions talk to my lawyer."

Jocelyn closed the connection viscously and disappeared from view. McCoy let a single, violent tremor rack through his frame and he sighed miserably, burying his face in his hands. Silence lingered, Jim looking murderous, Cody with eyebrows quirked by worry lining her eyes and Cokata collected.

"Alright." Cokata rumbled cooly and spun the laptop around and typed in the communications code again waiting for a few minutes before a disgruntled Jocelyn accepted the communications, she looked like she was beginning an insulting tirade when her voice died at the sight of Cokata's form bent towards the screen.

"Jocelyn Dauphin? Hi, my name is Cokata Chicalato. I'm representing Doctor Leonard McCoy, yer ex-husband." Cokata rumbled with a sickly sweet smile and casual intelligence. "My client very recently requested he get the chance to have his duaghter with him over the holidays, which ya so rudely denied without basis and told him to talk to yer lawyer. So Miss Dauphin I'm goin' to need his information as we're filin' suit for visitation rights as we speak and I expect yer man is goin' to need the time for the deposition bright and early tomorrow mornin'."

The woman blinked in shock and confusion. "What?"

Cokata grinned like a wolf, his eyes flashing hard and predatory. "The number Miss Dauphin."

Jocelyn scrambled a little, mumbling out the number before Cokata politely thanked her and advised her to pack for cold weather. Once the communication connection was cut Cokata waved the scrap of paper he'd written on, crinkling it with that same wolfish grin.

"God, I could kiss ya on the mouth." McCoy rumbled,, looking up at the middle Chicalato in awe.

"C'mon, Caniwahu. Don't tease me, do it." Cokata puckered his lips comically and suggestively.

McCoy stared at him for a moment before lunging, grabbing Cokata roughly around the ears and jaw, yanking him forward and mashing their lips together roughly. Cokata went wide eyed for a second before he relaxed, eyes going soft and lips quirking under McCoy's.

Spock felt and eyebrow twitch.

Jim whooped suggestively and Cody smiled behind her hand, grey eyes bright.

With a soft snort McCoy pulled back, Cokata grinning.

"Damn Leonard. Give Soli a lesson some time soon will ya?" Cokata winked at the doctor and scooped up the PADD and laptop. "I'm goin' to hit it, file all this and wake up Judge Jake. Night all."

As he spoke Jim signed the middle child's words and Cody tilted her head, anticipating the light peck on her cheek she received from every male in her family on their departure from a room. Jim and McCoy waved him off as he rolled around the corner and down the hall.

"Doctor McCoy..." Spock started.

"Yeah?' He asked gruffly, quirking an eyebrow, Jim sniffed beside him.

Spock narrowed his eyes for a moment before glancing at Cody who shook her head marginally.

"It is not of import." Spock resigned. "I shall approach you with the question at a later time."

Cody dipped her head once in agreement and Jim huffed a laugh at Spock's shoulder.

"C'mon. Let's go work out." Jim nodded for him to follow and gathered jackets to bundle into on the way to the arena intending on leaving McCoy with Cody and cooling cups of coffee. Spock readily accepted his and started on Jim's heel's, hesitating marginally to look back.

The wooden chair under the doctor made a soft whine against the terra cotta tiles as McCoy moved from his place to Jim's vacated seat directly next to Cody, only one in the room McCoy had yet to make physical contact or acknowledgement of, Cody tilted her head towards him, eyebrows lifted in question and McCoy's hands lifted, normally nimble and sure, his large palms and fingers fumbled, stumbling to draw signs and words for Cody. Simple ones that Spock and Jim expressed with such swift fluidity that it was like listening to a man with a heavy speech impediment stutter through Standard.

It was only a short communication, a single string of signs but took three times as long for it to pass between them, McCoy having to pause and grasp for the signs before performing them. Spock can easily read the slightly garbled signs.

_Haven't seen you in a while. _

A simple thing really, but it quirked Cody's lips.

_**No. You haven't been sucked into a black hole.**_

McCoy made a soft, growled noise.

"Spock. C'mon." Jim reached out and lightly tugged on Spock's sleeve, pulling him out into the cold.

* * *

**A/N: BONES!!! Bones is here! Yay! EeeEEeEeeeeeEeEee!**

**So it was a heavy chapter. ALOT happened all at once. Hope everything went over well. Anyway got some Vulcan AND Lakota here! So time for your lessons.**

**Vulcan Translation:**

**Vuhlkansu - Vulcan (person, language)**

**Pak t' yontaya-kan - loss of a child**

**wa' sa-fu - especially a son**

**kup of'kat veh olozhika - can break one's logic**

**veh dungi la'tusa na' hafayat t' veh ha'kiv - one will mourn for the remainder of one's life**

**ruhm fna' Kolinhar veh dungi tusa - even through Kolinhar one will weep**

**wa' ko-mekh - especially a mother**

**pak weht do veh shal - loss greater than one's self**

**S'ti th'laktra - I grieve with thee**

**Lakota Translation:**

**Caniwahu - Sawbones**

**Wacignunihehaka - Wandering Elk**

**Iyaelainila - Speaks in Silence**

**Miye ceye kici niye - I cry with you (but lets just say it's 'I grieve with thee' for dramatic purposes)**

**Mniohkateinyan - Water Under Stone**

**Petamato - Fire Bear**

**Wahacaka - Shield**

**Glietahawicate - Returned From Death**

* * *

**BONUS!!! Hey here are a couple recipes from this chapter.**

**Firehouse Flapjacks**

1 Cup all-purpose Flour

1 Teaspoon Salt

1 Teaspoon Baking Powder

2 Tablespoon Sugar

1 Egg (Beaten)

1 Cup Milk

1 Teaspoon Vanilla Extract

1 Tablespoon Vegetable Oil (Or meat drippings)

Mix first four dry ingredients then stir in liquids and Egg. Beat until the batter is smooth. Batter should be about the consistency of thin honey. If necessary, add milk or water in small amounts to should be very hot. Test with a drop or two of water on the greased surface. The water should dance around while taking about one or two seconds to evaporate. Pour or ladle the batter on the hot griddle surface. When bubbles begin to quit rising (about 45 seconds) flip the flap-jack over and cook about another 30 seconds. Lightly grease griddle between each batch if necessary. Above receipt is enough for 3 servings or 1 hungry Firefighter.

Note: A firehouse Flap-jack should not fall apart when syrup and butter is added.

**Recipe by Firefighter: Jim Noah Station #10 Ft. Worth Fire Dept**

**Mary's (yes MINE!) Pasta Primavera **

Take One Bunch of Cut Up Fresh Broccoli

Diced Fresh Olives

One Cup Fresh sliced Mushrooms

One Sliced Zuccini

Diced Fresh Tomatos (can be substituted with diced canned tomatoes)

Add Garlic, Salt and Oregano to Taste

Place all vegitables in large pan with oil, saute lightly or until all veretables are tender. At the same time boil a second pot of water with a tsp of salt and olive oil. Once Boiling place 2 pounds of (any kind) noodles and cook them as directed on package. Drain Pasta when finished cooking and add it to a pasta bowl. Either mix sauce all ingredients together or serve pasta with sauce over top. Add shredded, chunked or grated cheese of choice at will.

Optional: Saute some shrimp in garlic and butter and add it to the finished product or Grill up some Bonless Chicken on the Grill then slice it thin and add it to the Pasta. This takes about 45 Minutes to prepare.

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**So let me know what you guys think. Of the chapters and/or the recipes. Much Love. Mary.

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**SP (as in Self-Promotion): I also uploaded the first chapter of my SUPERNATURAL/ STXI crossover **_**Salt of the Earth**_**. It is finished and I'll just upload the chapters every couple of days. There are only four chapters and it s not a part of the Native Sky series but check it out.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary: "My genetic composition is an impossibility."**

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**Lost Horse Creek, Montana**

"**When you are lonely, let me be your companion. When you are tired, let me carry the load. When you need to learn, let me teach you… after all, I am your horse."**

**-Unknown**

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**Chapter Ten: Medical Miracles**

**"Formerly, when religion was strong and science weak, men mistook magic for medicine; now, when science is strong and religion weak, men mistake medicine for magic..."**

**- Thomas Szasz**

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_**Native Sky Ranch**_

_**124 Flathead Road,**_

_**Lost Horse Creek, Bitterroot Mountain Range, Rocky Mountains, Ravalli County, Montana**_

_**Stardate: 2260**_

_**October 21**_

_**2032 Hours**_

There was a single word that described Jeepers Creepers.

Ugly.

There was no denying it. And it had not always been true. There were photos that Jim had pointed out in the trophy tack room of the sorrel horse in his younger years. The towering Quarter Horse had once had the Roman profile of a prize fighter. Everything about him had been tall, sleek and even. Long legs and ankles and neat hooves. His fur a thick, luxurious red brown and even, symmetrical markings running a blaze down his face and up to his knees on all four legs that had been so brilliantly white they looked chalked in.

The sorrel gelding had been the epitome of Quarter Horse conformation, rodeo perfection and was poised to take the title History's Greatest Roping Horse from the legendary Wahoo King.

But that was before his accident. Back when his name had been Red Bird.

In the middle of a winning season, Stardate 2253, the expert roping horse had lunged at the gate at the chime of the timer, hurtling at a full gallop on the heels of a calf, ears pinned and every muscle thundering, Hell bent on either catching up to the other animal or mowing it down.

As he had been trained to, as he had done always before.

But the gate malfunctioned and stayed locked firmly in place and the sorrel had plowed headlong into it at nearly forty miles an hour with Cody astride the saddle.

Jim had witnessed it.

He'd said the noise was enough to silence the crowd of nearly twenty thousand and was a sound that Jim remembered often in the pits of his darkest nightmares. There was a vid clip of the event that had been taken at the time to document the sorrel's ascend into history and Jim was resolute that Spock would _never_ see it.

The accident happened in less than ten seconds and left the thousand pound sorrel fighting for his life and at the mercy of the tangle of rope, steel and fine wire. The flesh of his chest cleaved like butcher's meat, throat torn and lacerated, vital veins and arteries shredded, his face laid open to the bone the sorrel had thrashed and rolled then finally gone still in the dirt made mud by his own blood.

Spock had heard the story more than once from both Cody and Jim. Cody always insisting that it was Jim's doing that saved the sorrel and Jim assured Spock it was Cody's intervention.

Either way by expertise, immediate care and pure will had seen the horse through field surgery right in the arena then through months of recovery.

The incident had left the sorrel scarred all across his fore legs, chest and throat. His face a spider web of blackened sunken lines and raised trails of pearl in the healed wounds. His once handsome visage disfigured, nasal bone skewed, nostrils slashed, lips cut and ears ragged. He was missing teeth and was fortunate to have his complete eyesight. It left him sore, left him bruised, left him slightly lame. It left him in ridicule and the object of sneers and retches.

It left him ugly.

And for a year it remained so.

Until 2255 and the sorrel backed into the roping pen again with a new name.

And proceeded to annihilate the competition.

There was a commissioned oil paining, a sculpted bronze bust and a toy model made by a company called Breyer mounted in an alcove along with copies of Jeepers Creepers awards in the ProRodeo Horse Hall of Fame. All disfigured true to form. A duplicate collection was also on display at the Quarter Horse Hall of Fame. On the rare appearances that the now retired roping horse made into the world no one dared laugh or cringe from his disfigured face.

He was not the first unlikely success story that were in record books and history logs under Cody's name.

There was the infamous Three Moons, a palomino Appaloosa cutting horse that was missing his right rear leg entirely. The horse had higher honors than Jeepers Creepers and was still at work in the show ring, though Spock had only glimpsed the three legged stud from afar and though Jim said that Cody worked him often Spock had never witnessed it.

A black overo Paint Cross mare named Chickadee was completely blind at age two, abused for inability to perform and scheduled to be put down before Cody caught wind and intervened. Within three years of active work and training had been competing at Grand Prix level Dressage with Jim and winning ribbon after ribbon up until a few years before when the mare was humanly euthanized due to crippling pneumonia. Jim had never completely gotten over the loss of the mare and the blonde had confessed that he feared pneumonia in a horse above all else.

Bad Blood, a red sorrel overo Paint, had broken his back in three places as a five years old. He'd survived surgery and recovery to return to the show ring as a Western Pleasure champion for several years, sired ten similar award worthy foals before retiring to be a 'babysitter', doing the light work of teaching children how to ride in the ring and on trails before passing away just a year before at the age of nineteen.

And the list went on in a series of names that had either suffered crippling physical set backs or had been so severely mistreated they could not function correctly... at least until they came under Cody's hand.

Jim explained Cody's constant intervention, rehabilitation and devotion to animals that others would leave for dead as a weakness for hard luck cases. He told Spock that it applied to hominids as well, in his words 'lucky me'.

An illogical practice to expound so much energy into cases that had such a high risk of failure.

But when Spock lightly ran his hands up and down the skewed and scarred muzzle of the sweet natured Jeepers Creepers he was glad of it.

Jeepers Creepers was ugly, destroyed outwardly, but internally the gelding burned like a solar fire. His disposition was as patient and gentle with humans as Jim was with horses. Steadfast and unshakeable, the gelding took everything in stride and with a light hearted joy that showed in play when he was turned out into the pasture and romped easily with the younger horses. The animal's spirit had remained untainted by his accident, disfigurement and later ridicule.

Spock got along well with the gelding and felt easy and comfortable seating him.

It was just happenstance that Jeepers Creepers was an astounding seventeen and a half hands tall and together gave Spock the comfort of being well paired height wise, his tall frame fitting far easier on the sorrel than on the shorter and more compact horses that were typical of Cody's herd.

Spock fingered the webbed nylon of Jeepers Creepers' purple and black halter and lead rope, not feeling the true texture through his cloth gloves, moving along the line of stalls with purpose and gave his singular, low whistle. There was a short blast of a whinny and the sorrel's twisted face swung out and hung over his stall door. The gelding pricked his ears and gave a soft nicker of recognition and a sigh at the sight of the hybrid.

Spock deftly unlocked the stall door and slid it open. Jeepers Creepers stood patiently inside the doorway, his stall mate and genetic daughter Heebie Jeebies nickered and stretched her nose towards the hybrid.

Spock brushed the back of his hand over her nostrils before turning his attention to Jeepers Creepers. The sorrel dropped his head and allowed Spock to slip the halter around his head and buckle it behind his ears and clip the purple and black lead rope to the chin ring before winding the rope around his wrist and tugged gently. The sorrel stepped easily out of the box and swung around so Spock could slide the stall door closed, Spock lightly tied the lead rope into a quick release knot on the hitch ring mounted on the wood and stood back as Jim ambled over, bearing the weight of a purple and black blanket and a black tack set of bridle and reins, breast collar and western all around saddle. Clenched in his hand a purple bucket full of brushes, curries and other bits of equipment.

Jim dropped everything at Spock's feet and huffed with a slight smile.

"Alright. First of all, all this tack looks like leather but it's not. All synthetic. Personally don't trust 'em but in light of present company. Yeah. Let's clean him up."

Jim handed Spock the brush and took the curry for himself, walking around to the other side of the sorrel and started at his rump while Spock started the brush at his neck. This was one of the first things Jim had taught him, the correct way to brush, groom and after a hard workout, rubdown a horse. Spock is methodical about circling the brush over Jeepers Creepers hide, parting caked mud or dirt and clinging bedding chips from his fur and working his way steadily and slowly down the sorrel's neck, his finger tips tracing the deep scars along the throat and continued the tracing as he moved down the gelding's chest and fore legs, back up over the plane of his shoulder and along his barrel and back to his rump and rear leg before stepping around to the other side as Jim ducked under the horse's neck to take up Spock's previous place and the whole process was repeated backwards.

The brush and curry comb clattered into the bucket and Jim deftly handed Spock a silver metal hoof pick. The hybrid bent and gently pinched the cannon bone of the sorrel's left fore leg. The horse shifted his weight and obediently lifted the hoof, arching his leg under his chest and held it until Spock's palm settled on the curve of the outer wall and held the hoof up himself, quickly drawing the tip of the pick along the inside curve of the hoof then digging into the mud on either side of the frog and drawing a smooth 'v' into the compacted earth and bedding. The layer fell away in clumps and exposed the sole of Jeepers Creepers' hoof, bare and yellow. Spock ran his thumb across the frog and sole, feeling for any tightness, swelling and gauging the sorrel's reaction to the touch for soreness. When there was none Spock eased the hoof back to the floor and stepped down to the left rear leg to repeat the whole process over.

Then did it twice more before tossing the hoof pick back into the bucket.

"Good job. Alright tacking is usually done to preference, wither or not you do bridle or saddle first.. I prefer saddle first. Always make sure they're groomed, you don't want anything between the pad and their skin. Something, anything stuck between can rub and become irritant can do real damaged. Bruise, sores, anything so smooth surface."

Jim's hand stroked along Jeepers Creepers' spine from his shoulder to his rump.

Spock nodded.

"Then how you tack a horse up is dependent on the horse. More skittish horses need more time and patience than bombproof ones like Jeep. The best way to do it right is it put yourself in their place."

"Projection."

"Kind of. Figure you're nervous or easily scared and someone rushes at you with this big, floppy, noisy piece of whatever while you're tied by your head to a wall. Then tries to throw this thing over your back and tie it around your stomach."

"An understandably uncomfortable... and frightening experience." Spock agreed.

"You got it. Just keep that in mind and until you can figure a horse out treat them all that way. Remember that it's not natural for them. You show them consideration and they'll show you consideration, give and take. But always give more than you take."

"Indeed."

"Okay. A big trick is never sneak up on them with anything. Always show them what you have, if you can walk up to them from the front and give them the chance to sniff and check out and nose around whatever you have. You give them the chance and suddenly the big, floppy noisy piece of whatever isn't scary. 'Hey, I thought this was going to eat me, what happened?' Watch. Sorry in advance, Jeep."

Jim said and picked up the purple and black saddle pad, stepped back a few feet and stood just outside of the sorrel's eye line near his rear.

"Sorry again Jeep." Jim pressed then lifted the blanket over his head and swung it down with a jerk, the material slapping loudly in the air.

Jeepers Creepers jumped, his whole frame hunching forward and head jerking up in fear with a snort. His rear hooves skidded forwards and crouched under him. Jim gently set the blanket aside, and quickly side stepped up and laid his hand against the wire taught horse's shoulder.

"Hey buddy, I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Jim soothed, his voice sounded slightly tight and pained, distressed at having caused the sorrel's reaction.

The roping horse stayed tense for a moment then relaxed and let out a weary breath as all his muscles uncoiled and he shifted around until his hooves were square again. The sorrel gave a soft nicker of annoyance before swinging his head around and sharply digging his teeth into Jim's hip, nipping the blonde lightly before letting go and jerking his head back.

Jim hissed and jumped a little, rubbing his flank. "Yeah I deserved that."

Jeepers Creepers snorted softly.

"Just so you know, _never_ do it to _any _horse _ever._" Jim said so sharply it startled Spock a little. " I only did it to Jeep because I know he can handle it and get over it without a problem but watch."

Jim tugged the saddle pad to him, holding it out and approached. Jeepers Creepers didn't tense or show fear but his ears pinned and he snorted.

"See?"

"Yes."

"Now watch."

Jim moved around and held the blanket out to the horse. The sorrel eyed it before dropping his nose and sniffing at the surface, casually turned his attention away. Jim stepped back, waited approximately thirty seconds before approaching again with the blanket aloft.

No change.

Jeepers Creepers stood as if Jim had never moved, relaxed, ears swayed and eyes half lidded.

Jim lifted his eyebrows and cocked his head at Spock.

"I see."

"Alright. Here."

He passed over the purple and black blanket.

"Try and get it even across his back and make sure it covers his shoulder and the base of his neck. That's where the saddle goes."

"Is there a particular reason for the placement so high along the spine?" Spock inquired, digging his thumbs into the fabric of the blanket.

"Because the further down the spine you go the weaker the back gets. This point-" Jim laid his fingers along the spine line a few inches up from the curve of the rump. "-is the weakest part of a horses' back. Some breeds like Tennessee Walkers or Racking Horses, gaited pleasure breeds, they put the saddle on this point on purpose because it makes the horse drop his rear quarter, lift his shoulder and step higher. It's pretty uncomfortable for the horse, though. They can handle it for a little while, not a long time."

The hybrid nodded and stepped forward, offering the blanket to Jeepers Creepers. The sorrel gave it a slight sniff and a flick of his ear but no more. Spock approached the sorrel and lightly draped the blanket into place over the shoulder and upper back.

Jeepers Creepers' skin twitched but he stayed still and relaxed.

"When you put the saddle on, make sure that the cinch and breast collar are up in the seat and the stirrup of the far side it hooked over the horn." Jim hesitated then plowed on his explanation, anticipating Spock's questions. "That way when you put it over there's nothing swinging free to slap or bump him or anything and spook him like that. Its all about doing everything you can not to scare him."

Spock nodded and efficiently positioned the cinch and breast collar before hooking the far side stirrup over the horn.

"Lift it by the swell and under the cantle." Jim instructed and Spock did so. He lifted the synthetic saddle easily, finding the weight far less than he expected. Spock side stepped and offered the saddle to the sorrel horse with similar results of the blanket.

A moment stretched and Spock took a breath before hefting up the saddle and as gently as he could setting it into place and gave it a light tug to make sure of it's placement. The hybrid stepped back and Jim leaned in just slightly to look at it before nodding.

"Alright, grab a hold of the breast collar and take it with you when you duck under his neck and buckle it up to the D-ring on the other side, the bring down the cinch and the stirrup and come back to this side." Jim instructed.

The hybrid nodded briskly and carried out the orders, easing the cinch and stirrup down against Jeepers Creepers side before ducking back under his long neck to Jim' side.

"Alright, cinch him up. So it's snug around his belly and buckle it up. Don't squeeze him, alright, just a little pressure."

Spock bent slightly, gripped the cinch and pulled it across, slipping the heavy canvas strap through the metal buckle and pulled it gently and slowly taught, snugging the soft, woven rope of the cinch into the sorrel gelding's ribs. Jeepers Creepers blew a soft breath out and Spock pulled the cinch a little more as the air went out of the horse. He buckled the cinch up and leaned back as Spock reached over his hands to loop the strap into a saddle knot then slid the end of the strap through a lasso tie.

"Then you clip the breast collar between his legs to the forward D-ring in the cinch."

The hook of the breast collar closed into place with a soft clink and Jim lightly patted the plane of his shoulder blade.

"You just saddled your first horse." The blonde smiled lightly at him. "At least for a light work out anyway."

"Simple enough."

"Yeah, well try to do it with three minutes to go before the bell." Jim shrugged a shoulder. "Bridle."

He lifted the bridle off a hook mounted on the stall door. "It's made of three parts. Reins and the headstall-" He touched the lengths of synthesized leather then traced the shape of the brow band and cheek straps. "- they're linked by the bit."

He touched the 'H' shaped bar of curved steel.

"Cody prefers bits, I don't. I like a bosal. You've seen the one I use on Wolfie."

Spock nodded, remembering the bridle that had sported a large loop of braided rawhide where the bit would have been, the reins linked to a metal loop at the chin.

"This is a pretty simple kind of Western bit. It's actually called a Quarter Horse bit, it's a kind of curb bit. Anyway, cheek bars or cheeks-" His fingers traced the length of the slightly curved bars on either side of the bit, then him slid his hands over the curved bar in between. "- the port mouth piece or the port. The curve in the middle lays on their tongue and the ends of the port are set back on the gums behind the molars.

He reached into his own mouth, pulling his lips back to expose his teeth and tapped a finger against the pink ridge of gum just behind his last molar. Spock tilted his head and was surprised to see slight scarring on the gum from some kind of dental surgery in Jim's past.

"When the bridle's set right, the port should be on that part of their gums, the bar of their mouth. And high in it because the closer you get to their teeth the weaker the bar is and the more painful the contact. Not on their teeth, a bar of steel grinding across their teeth can ruin 'em, harden a mouth, break down communication, all kinds of different stuff. See set back into the bar they can feel even the lightest pressures and commands through the reins. And that's all it takes. A good horse, well trained, listens to your leg before they do your hand."

"This is why you've stressed the importance of leg contact for the last three weeks."

"Yeah. If you learn to ride without a saddle and a bit you get all those good manners locked in first. You learn to use your weigh and leg to steer and cue. When when you get into a saddle you're going to use your leg before your hands. Which is the right way to do it anyway. The bit and reins and bridle should just be a reinforcer. You cue with your leg first then add light contact to the mouth to make the cue clear or add a different command to the one you just gave. But you have to be careful with bits, they can cause a lot of damage in a hurry. They cue to flex and turn and bend."

As he spoke Jim smoothed him palm up and down Jeepers Creepers' neck.

"Supple. You want everything about how they move and twist to be easy, smooth and supple. When it tightens up and become choppy then your asking them to bend and you're more likely to cause a break. If you use a bit excessively with too much force is can become abusive and be extremely painful for them and it'll harden up their mouth and they'll either grit their teeth or run right through the bit no matter how hard you pressure. You want a soft mouth, Light touches and easy but constant contact between your hand, the rein and the bit."

"Bending and a softened mouth." Spock reiterated.

"You got it. When a horse is handled correctly and exposed to a bit the right way it's painless and casual. Watch."

Jim turned to the side and shifted the bridle around into position above Jeepers Creeprs nose, his palm cradling the port. He held it out under the sorrels mouth, lightly brushing his lips with the metal. Jeepers Creepers lips curled and he opened his mouth, willingly dipping his head and wrapping his jaws around the bit and sucked on it once, working it back into comfortable position himself with his tongue and jaw.

"See. If they've never been mishandled with the bit then they're more than happy to wear one." Jim explained and reached around to grip the cheek bar and pulled gently. The sorrel instantly opened hims mouth and let the bit slide free.

"When you pull it out always have a good hand on it, don't let it rattle or bump their teeth. Hurts a little."

"Understood."

Jim passed over the bit. "You do it."

Spock was grateful in that moment for the cloth gloves. His aversion to making physical contact with the animals had dissolved almost entirely but saliva... the thought of a palmful for saliva made his hand clench. He hesitated for a breath before taking the the bridle and palming the bit before repeating what Jim had done.

Jeepers Creepers sucked the bit up and worked it back into place himself as he done before.

"Now slip his ears through the gap between the brow band and base strap. Kind of like a halter." Jim instructed gently.

Spock reached with his other hand and fed the sorrel's ears into the brow band gap and settled the bridle into place completely, overlapping the purple and black halter.

"Reins over his neck. With split reins like that one over each side so they're even and cross where you can hold both at the same time."

Spock nodded and bent slightly under Jeepers Creepers' neck and tossed the left hand rein over his neck to drape over and did the same for the right hand rein.

"And you're set. You have officially tacked a horse." Jim tipped his lips and reached around to pull the quick tie knot of the lead rope and casually looped the lead around the saddle horn a few times.

Though he wasn't tied the sorrel stayed still, ears swayed and eyes half lidded.

"Mounting's pretty much the same as it is bareback except you put your foot in the near side stirrup. Here.' Jim motioned Spock around to Jeepers Creepers' side.

"Grab the horn-"

Spock wrapped his grip around the saddle horn.

"-other hand on the cantle and put the toe of your boot into the stirrup."

Spock settled his other hand and lifted his right foot up and slid the tip of his boot into the stirrup.

"Little further." Jim reached around and gripped the hybrid's heel and pushed it further into the stirrup. " Now just put a little pressure down when you jump up and throw your leg over."

Spock nodded, remembering the image of Jim easily vaulting into the saddle.

"Whenever you're ready." Jim assured and stood back.

Spock hesitated before pushing his muscles in a way similar to those few first stumbles into getting astride a horse, when his boost up had been the grip of Jim's hand on his shin or ankle. He pushed up and swung his leg up and over with a foreign creak and groan of thick canvas and synthetic leather and Spock settled into the shaped bowl of the saddle, feeling slightly off kilter and tilted to the side.

"Push over."

"Pardon?"

"Push over. You took too long to get into the saddle and you pulled it over with your weight. You need to force it the other way so it's back into place. Put your foot into the other stirrup and jerk the saddle over with your weight." Jim instructed.

Spock struggled before bending and hooking the stirrup over his boot then made an awkward, forceful jerk of his weight to the side. The saddle shifted under him and settled. Spock moved slightly until he was seated correctly.

"Not to hard, right?"

"Agreed."

Jim smirked gently then slapped his calve. "Kick your heels free."

Spock hesitated and Jim rolled his eyes.

"It means slide out of the stirrups. If you ever hear an announcer or judge or someone tell you to 'kick your heels free' take your boots out of the stirrup. Now do it."

Spock nodded and did as commanded. Jim shoved his knee a little, forcing his leg back towards the sorrel gelding's rump. Jim focused his attention on the chap, straps and stirrup.

"Got to adjust. Last time I used this saddle I was five foot seven. And still you're taller than me now."

Spock nodded and watched as Jim slid a covering up, pulled a pronged hook from a series of holes running down the straps of the chaps and moved them down several notches.

"I use six..." Jim hummed to himself. "Go for seven. Here, put your foot in."

Jim's fingers wrapped around the heel of the hybrids boot and slid it into the stirrup. The blonde's hand squeezed his Achellies' tendon through the thick matter of his boot and sock then slid firmly up the back of his calve and settled into the hollow back of his knee. Pressing down through jean and thermal fabric until Spock felt his own pulse against Jim's fingertips. He stiffened.

"Relax." Jim said quietly.

"Jim. What-"

"I need you to relax. I need to feel what the tension of your knee is at rest to make sure the stirrup is right."

Spock took a breath and let it out slowly and forced the muscles in his leg to slacken. Jim pressed down again until his pulse thrummed in the rapid chatter that was natural to it.

"Gotta go eight." Jim's hand flitted down and hooked around the front of Spock's ankle and pulled his boot free, adjusted the stirrup and pushed the boot back into place before pressing his fingers into the back of Spock's knee again.

A moment passed and Spock tried to relax his leg further.

"Damn it all. You're always difficult aren't you?" Jim quirked his eyebrow and snorted softly.

"I don't understand."

"You're a seven an a half stirrup length. I'll have to put a new notch in the strap later. Suffer with a seven for now." Jim moved the stirrup back up and locked it into place, slid Spock's boot into the stirrup and started to back away but stopped moved over and physically gripped the toe and heel of Spock's boot and tilted it.

"Heels down, keep your heels down."

The blonde moved to the other side and repeated the process, measuring the length of Spock's leg and tension of his knee all over again to ensure a fit, not an acceptance of a fit.

"Sometimes one leg is a little longer than the other."

"I assure you that I am quite symmetrical." Spock protested quietly.

"I'm sure you are." Jim said indulgently, patting his knee. "Alright. Sit up straight. Just like if you're bareback. The only difference is the saddle. Do exactly the same kind of ride as if this wasn't here." Jim tapped the skirt of the saddle.

Spock straightened his spine.

"Move up. Put your crotch right against the swell." Jim's fingers pressed into the small of Spock's back until the hybrid had shifted awkwardly forward in the seat of the saddle. Once the blonde's touch had receded he straightened his spine again.

"Okay. Now the hard stuff... reins. Keep your touch light. Here, pick 'em up. Both hands. Thread them through your hands and between the thumb and forefinger... no, here-"

Jim reached over and gingerly touched Spock's hands. Carefully shaping them correctly around the strips of synthetic leather. As if Jim was trying not to keep the contact to a bare minimum, trying not to touch while he did regardless that the hybrid's hands were protected by the cloth gloves..

Spock had no doubt now that Jim understood Vulcan physiology far better than the hybrid first assumed. He cocked his head and for the first time in the lesson Jim seemed unsure, as he physically weaved the reins into Spock's fingers and laid them across his palms before pulling back as quickly as possible.

Jim wrung his hands slightly, tugging at the flesh of his palms and tangling his fingers. Spock waited a moment, watching Jim fidget and suffer for only a breath for only the spans of a human heartbeat.

"You have not overstepped your bounds Jim." The hybrid assured.

Jim went still for a moment before relaxing and nodding slightly, huffing a small, slightly nervous laugh. "Just slap me when I do."

"As you wish."

The soft chuckle that followed was genuine and relaxed. Spock's own muscles unknotted and under him Jeepers Creepers relaxed more than he already had been. Spock had barely felt the tension in the roping horse. It seemed that even the sorrel's tension was as laid back as the gelding himself.

"Alright. Like riding bareback it's all bout yield to pressure and shifting your weight and leg movement."

Spock nodded.

"Then have him back up, just make all your cues a little more pronounced. Louder. You're talking to him through a layer of canvas now, they have to be loud enough for him to hear."

Spock shifted his legs slightly, feeling the saddle move with him. The hybrid shifted his weight back slightly.

The sorrel sighed but came to attention. His eyes opening, nostrils flaring and ears pricked forward. The horse dropped his head and smoothly scooted back several paces.

"Stop him. When you do give a little pull on the reins. Just straight back into your stomach."

Spock sat back further in the seat, and straightened his leg. Spock hesitated, checking his strength and intending to work the reins right the first time. This was something he could not fail at. There was no room for error and risk Jim's confidence and trust in him.

As Jim himself would say, this was a 'make or break' moment.

Spock steeled himself and gently, but firmly, tightened the reins straight back into his stomach and pulled just slightly.

The sorrel stalled and stopped moving. When Spock didn't lighten the pull he dropped his head down into his chest.

"Stop pulling." Jim urged quickly and Spock instantly slackened his grip and Jeepers Creeper's neck uncoiled and relaxed again.

"Was it done incorrectly?' Spock asked, masking his tension.

"No you did it right, I didn't explain about release. As soon as the cue is filled out as much as you want it to be you relax the tension. It's kind of like a reward for doing it. You want to have light, constant contact between your hand and their mouth but stop the extra pressure when the job it done."

"I understand. It was passible?"

Jim looked at him strangely, brow furrowed and head cocked to the side. Spock shifted slightly in the saddle and Jim's face softened to a assuring smile. "Yeah Spock. It was passable. Better even. Walk him up. You don't need to command with the reins to walk up."

Spock squeezed his knees and calves into Jeepers Creepers' barrel and the horse smoothly stepped forward.

"Stop him. Same as the lat time, just release when he stops walking." Jim assured.

Spock carried out the cue, the instant the sorrel had stopped moving he slackened his grip.

"Good. Perfect." Jim praised. "Lets just work on a little flexing and bending and the difference between straight rein and neck rein. You won't have to go anywhere. Just stay put. Alright?"

Spock nodded, fingering the reins.

"Okay. First straight reining..."

The lesson progressed with the same slow and detailed instruction and constant encouragement and praise as any riding lesson did, Jim's sole purpose geared towards educating the hybrid in the correct practices while instilling confidence in Spock.

Straight rein as a means of riding where commands to the bit were given directly through the adjacent rein. Neck reining consisted of laying the opposing rein against the neck of the horse to give cues through yield to pressure.

Flexing and bending as also deceptively simple. Asking with light pressure and pull and release of the rein towards his hip or knee to get Jeepers Creepers to twist his head around until his muzzle would touch his chest or edge of his shoulder or even the toe of Spock's boot.

He graduated from bending and flexing into simple walks up and down the aisle, turning circles and side stepping, Jim ever present at the hybrid's knee.

The lesson ended with Jim and Spock rubbing down, grooming and graining the sorrel.

Jeepers Creepers rewarded Spock with a gentle nip on his shoulder and a shove to the hip. Spock patted the sorrel's jaw then looked upwards, his eyes narrowing at the soft sound of something rattling and chattering against the roof of the stable barn.

"Great job, Spock." Jim praised one last time as they walked along the line of stalls to step out into the yard. The rattle grew louder, more persistent. Jim stalled, tilting his head and growled softly.

"Great." He jogged to the sliding double doors and pulled one back. "Just perfect."

Spock strode over quickly and looked over Jim's shoulder.

In the darkness of the nightfall it was pouring rain. Sheets falling with enough force that it chattered against the earth. Falling so thick that is was hard to see through. Spock had ever seen rain so heavy before. The light, warm and perfumed showers of California and the brief, hot drizzles of Vulcan did not compare to the frigid, harsh rush that was coming down hard enough to cause a dull roar.

Jim sighed and slumped against the door and pinched his nose bridge. A low rumble bloomed from the sky, Spock's attention snapped up, head cocked and listening as the sound was repeated. It sounded like the low, bellowing growl of some massive predator.

"Damnit all."

"Jim?"

"Mud doesn't freeze." The blonde grumbled.

Spock's eyebrows lifted into his hairline.

"A further explanation of your meaning is necessary." The hybrid prompted.

"It can be sub zero temperatures and mud won't freeze. It turns into this weird, frosted, chunky oatmeal stuff that has sharp edges and sinks and breaks and it is pain in the ass." Jim rambled, snarling softly through the whole tangent. "It breaks ankles and tears up soles and I hate it!"

Spock blinked.

"Ice! I would rather have ice!" Jim ranted. "But this!?!"

A low rumble sounded from above.

"Anything but rain with these temperatures..." Jim's voice pitched up and sounded like a borderline whimper. Spock narrowed his eyes.

"Jim... are you... whining?"

"Yes!" Jim barked and sighed, digging his face into his hands and sighed. "C'mon. Just run."

Spock cocked his head to the side before stepping out into the rain.

He choked at the cold rushing down, through his clothes and into his core. He staggered and choked desperately for air, only swallowing more of the frigid water.

"Move!" Jim's arm tangled with his and slipped around his waist, dragging the hybrid forward and into a unsteady run. The rain pounded down hard on the back of his neck and slid down along his spine and into his jeans and lower, sending shocks of pain through his body. The water cut into his exposed skin, feeling more like a solid blow that could leave bruises; each drop pure ice and ripped the breath from his chest. His boots slipped in the quickly softening packed earth and grass of the yard, stumbling down hard onto one knee sent a splinter of paint through the joint and water flooded into his boot, soaking his sock and flooding up into his pant leg. Mud slueced through the layers of his thermals and underclothing making them stone heavy and like having his legs sunk into thickened ice water.

"Spock!" Jim's arm rewrapped around the hybrid's waist, digging icy fingers into the edge of Spock's jeans waistband and under his shirt. The touch of Jim's fingers on the skin of his flank sent a new spike of cold through him and Spock jerked, arching sharply and letting out a breathy gasp that was some near mixture between a yelp and a whimper. Spock pitched sideways and jerked when Jim's loose hand wrapped tightly around his wrist and a new flare of cold made the muscles in his arm spasm. Another noise escaped Spock's throat but it choked when Jim physically hauled Spock back to his feet and half dragged half pulled him the distance to the stairs, stumbling up to the porch and across, yanking open the door Jim practically shoved Spock indoors and followed himself. Spock grabbed onto the edge of the table for support, shaking violently, his teeth chattering as icy water dribbled in mud streaked puddles on the floor. Jim skidded, bumping into Spock's hip before tumbling haphazardly to the the floor in a puddle of mud and water. Shaking hard himself and gasping.

"It's like getting hit with a sledgehammer." The blonde rasped and tried to get to his feet, only sliding more on the slicked terra cotta tiles.

Spock knees started to give out and he sank slowly down towards the floor as the cold seeped deeper into his core and bones. He was becoming light headed.

"Spock? Spock! No. C'mon. Stay up. We gotta get outta these clothes," Jim 's teeth chattered as he spoke grabbed the edge of the table and hauled himself up and putting a hand in the small of Spock's back to stay up. All it did was flush his soaked clothes against his spine.

The same breathy noise broke from his throat, the cross of the whimper and yelp and Jim heard it clearly as Spock's knees started to buckle.

"Spock?" Jim asked sharply.

"What in Hell fire is- Jesus, Jim!" McCoy dashed the distance across the kitchen in a few strides. Cody on his heels Canteska and Nemo A534 scrambling to follow. The one eyed German Shepherd let out a sharp noise and rushed forward, tracking into the watery mud. He whined loudly while Canteska stood back and out of the way.

"It... it s-started r-raining... " Jim shook hard, the enamel of his teeth clacking loudly with his jaw.

"Yer soaked through, both of ya. Damnit all, are ya tryin' to get pneumonia? Tryin' to kill him?" McCoy jerked his head at Spock. "He's a friggin' gila monster, Jim! He's not made to deal with hypothermia!"

_**Hush, Len.**_

The medical officer's jaw snapped shut instantly, Spock mustered enough of himself to lift an eyebrow of surprise at the cantankerous man's quick obedience to the Brotherhood's alpha.

_**Lets get them into hot water.**_

"Right. Start strippin'. Get outta the clothes. Jim get yer ass upstairs now."

"A-alright alright." Jim chattered as he yanked his layers shirts up over his head in one pull, baring his torso. Waifs of steams rose off the skin of his chest as cold flesh me warmed air. It sent another rippled of shakes through the blonde's frame as he struggled out of his boots and socks. He started to walk away.

_**Jeans Jim. Right here. Might as well contain this. **_Cody signed quickly before moving to Spock's side where the hybrids hands were shaking hard as he tried to extract his clothing. She gently brushed his hands away, asking permission and waiting for a nod before gingerly helping Spock out of his shirts. Exposing his own paled and twitching skin to the air.

McCoy gripped Jim's shoulder and steered him around towards the stairwell. Jim stalled, balking in their path.

"S-s-spock-"

"Miss Cody knows what to do." McCoy growled and manhandled Jim up the stairs.

"_M-m-miss _Cody?" Jim asked and McCoy snarled something as he shoved the blonde out of sight. Nemo A534 looked wildly between Jim's trail and the shaking Spock. The dog whined loudly and rushed over nudging the hybrid's hand in an apology before streaking after Jim up the stairs.

_**Come on, sugar. **_Cody coaxed. _**Get out of those jeans. **_

Feeling a small flush of modesty Spock forwent it to struggle out of his boots and socks and layered thermals and jeans until he stood shivering violently in waterlogged boxers.

Cody wrapped and arm around his waist and steered him out of the kitchen and into the hall and towards the first floor bathroom. The bathroom that Jim normally dominated and had lined the mirror with pictures and the countertop with his assorted bath kit. Spock had started sharing the bathroom with him and the russet towels were now accompanied by a set of dark brown ones that Spock used.

Cody gently steered Spock around to sit on the closed lid of the toilet, Canteska siting back in the doorway to watch. Cody moved past Spock to plug the bathtub when cranked up the faucet with a mixture of hot and cold water. She reached around and handed Spock one of the russet towels and Spock tugged the thick, fleecy fabric around his shoulders and tucked his hands into it, shivering hard and clenching his jaw to keep hist teeth from chattering. His breath was coming in harsh, broken pants.

Cody crouched next to the bathtub and stroked her hand through the slowly deepening water. He glanced up and saw Spock nearly convulsing.

_**Hey. Easy. Only another minute or two. **_

She pushed herself up and gently feathered her hand through his hair, brushing her thumb along his temple. A flicker of assurance and sympathy brushed across his mind and he tilted slightly into the offered comfort, shaking hard enough that his jaw broke free and teeth clacked loudly.

Cody gingerly hooked a hand under his chin and tilted his head back to look her in the face. He caught a glance of himself in the mirror from the corner of his eyes. His skin was sickly pale in some places but flushed blue green in others. His lips parted to draw air in as quickly as he could, his eyes looked glassy, milky even, he turned his attention back to Cody.

_**Sugar. You've gone teal.**_

Her eyes softened sorrowfully and keeping a hand on his shoulder she tested the water again before reaching over and shutting off the cold and let the hot run for another moment before cut it off as well.

_**In you get.**_

Spock let her help him up then ease into the warmed water. Not hot enough to cause a shock and deep enough that when Spock eased down to sit then was pushed back to nearly lie in the water it didn't over spill. Cody squatted next to the bathtub, keeping a hand on Spock's bicep, compared to his chilled flesh her touch was scorching.

He shivered violently teeth chattering harshly before the warmth of the water started to sink in, it flushed passed the shell of cold the rain had left on his skin and drew down into his muscles and trailed along his bloodline, it flooded into the marrow of his bones and slowly but surly soaked deeper to circle into his core.

Minutes crawled by and the shivering smoothed, his jaw slackened and his breathing became more easily, his eyes drifted and became half lidded. The touch of a palm eased from blistering into warm and finally became cool, as if should have been. Cody reached passed him, slumped and slack in the cooling water and drained a good portion of it before cranking on the hot water and flushing was was left with warmth. Spock let out a soft sound and jerked once but the new water mixed with the old and settled and grew steadily more comfortable and soothed him as his shaking subsided and natural color flooded back into his skin and the blue tinge faded. He shifted, sinking lower into the water until the edges of his hair started to float on the surface of the water. He woke more from his frigid stupor.

The hybrid turned his attention towards Cody. "Thank you." He rasped.

Her lips quirked in a small, sad smile and only responded by petting his hair. She moved around and shifted until she was sitting on the floor next to the bathtub, keeping her hand planted on his bicep and a silent litany of encouragement and concern, comfort and assurance seeping through the touch and eased his anxiety.

The new water cooled more rapidly than the first and Spock pulled himself from a near doze when Cody pushed herself up.

_**Sit tight sugar. Be right back.**_

The hybrid nodded and listened to the light footsteps of Cody moving out of the bathroom then up the stairs. He tracked her steps across the ceiling and after a few moments the creaks and groans announced her quick return to the stairs and back down them. Another few moments before she ducked back into the bathroom, her arms heaped with a thick set of black, grey and white plaid flannel pants, a black tee shirt, black boxers, a pair of thick black socks and a grey fleece lined hooded sweatshirt with a large black horse silhouette image printed on the front.

_**Get out before you give yourself a whole new chill. **_

Spock broke himself from the cooling water and climbed to shaky legs. Cody dumped the clothes onto the sink counter and reached out to grab onto Spock's forearm and helped him onto the thick rug in the middle of the tiled floor. She tugged the chocolate towels free and handed them off.

_**I'm sorry you're hurting so much out here, sugar. Sweet kid like you doesn't need this kind of trouble. **_

"You are not at fault." Spock rasped and scrubbed his skin dry with the thick fleece.

_**Yeah I am. You're my responsibility. Go on and get dressed. When you're done come in the kitchen.**_

Cody slipped out of the bathroom, shutting the door and leaving Spock to strip from his boxers, dry himself thoroughly and bundle into the offered clothing. He pulled the socks into place then gingerly walked around any small puddles on the hardwood and slunk into the kitchen with his arms wrapped tightly across his chest and head bowed slightly. He ducked into the kitchen and looked around in the softly lit room. The pile of soaked and muddy clothes and boots had disappeared, leaving only a large, muddy puddle on the floor that Cody was currently moping up. There was a kettle on the stove whistling softly, obviously having escaped Cody's attention for the moment.

Spock strode over and shut off the heat, preventing the kettle from over boiling. Cody glanced up at him but did nothing to stop the hybrid from pulling down a ceramic mug and mixing his own tea and finding his way over to the table and easing into a chair, wrapping his hands around the mug and warmed his palms. He sipped at it and felt the slight weight of guilt watching Cody mop up their mess. His mess.

She seemed content and shot him a look as if she'd heard his thoughts before turning her attention back. She hefted the filthy mop and wrung it out into the sink, shaking and running her hands under the faucet for a moment then left the mop tilted into the sink to drain. She snagged a towel from the mud room and swiped the cleaned floor dry with a bare foot onto top of the cloth.

Spock sipped quietly at the tea, letting the liquid finish the job of warming his core and breathed in the thick steam and scent, almost laving in it, as it loosened a marginal tightening in his sinuses. His eyes kept flicking towards the stairwell, unsure if Jim had already emerged and then turned back into hiding or had yet to surface at all.

He felt a touch on his elbow and twisted to look at Cody, the petite creature smiled gently.

_**Len probably sent him straight to bed. **_

Spock nodded slightly, agreeing with the assumption. The reasoning fit well with McCoy's natural over protectiveness and methodology of practice. He watched Cody mix up a small mug full of thick coffee and added a dollop of soy milk, turning it a soft creme color.

_**Why don't you take this up to him. He's probably fighting to get back down here as is.**_

The hybrid nodded mutely again and abandoned his tea and gently took up the coffee, holding it carefully and started for the stairs. He paused and looked back to where Cody was dumping his used mug and tea into the sink. He waited until Cody looked at him again, Spock started to speak, paused and thought before crossing back to her.

The petite rancher cocked her head.

_**Need something else?**_

Spock nodded. He bent slightly and placed the customary kiss on her cheek that all the Brotherhood did when they left her presence. He stepped back and Cody was smiling warmly at him, her grey eyes flooded with affection.

"Good night, Cody."

_**Night, sugar. Stay warm.**_

Spock nodded and slipped out of the kitchen and up the stairs. On the second landing he moved light footed down the hall to the standing ajar door of Jim's room, the soft sounds of a half hearted scuffle and an argument drifted through the gap. Spock nudged the door open gently and stood in the door way, listening to an argument older than the sky and moon.

"I'm fine Bones." Jim rasped out harshly, struggling slightly with the medical officer.

"Ya'd say ya were fine if ya were lyin' on the floor with yer legs broken and vomitin' blood." McCoy growled back, trying to force Jim down into his bed. The rumpled bed clothes and nervously shifting Nemo A534 on the mattress was evidence it was unlikely the first attempt.

"Bones-" Jim protested.

"Damnit it all, ya sound like yer throat's closin' up. Open yer mouth."

"Stop it. Bo-"

The southern doctor wrapped a hand around the blonde jaw in a touch far more gentle than his roughened hands would perceive and forced Jim's mouth open wider and head to twist so he could look down his throat. Jim gagged slightly and panted roughly.

"Yer esophagus is inflamed and yer flushin'." McCoy growled with curled lips. Jim jerked out of his grip.

"If you'd let me go I probably wouldn't be!" Jim coughed sharply twice.

McCoy reached with a hand and traced the flesh of Jim's face, across his nasal bone and under his eyes.

"Yer sinuses are flooded. Sit down." McCoy ordered, his voice deepening to that point that even Spock relented to.

"Doesn't matter if I get a cold. Spock's hurting." Jim jerked away again.

"While I am not fully recovered I am considerably revived and comfortable. No longer 'hurting' as you and Cody had resolved I am."

Jim and McCoy's head snapped up, going still for a moment at the realization of his entrance. McCoy recovered quickly and forced the blonde down into the bed. Jim bared his teeth and started back up until the doctor planted him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Stay. Look. He's fine. Standin' on his own two feet and a nice shade of green. Just sit."

Jim's eyes flicked to Spock them back before he physically gave in, relaxing down into the mattress and tossed sheets and blankets.

McCoy stayed tense for a moment then relaxed and stepped back. Spock crossed the room and offered the coffee to the blonde. Jim accepted it with a twitch of his lips before letting out a harsh cough.

"Why in Hell didn't I bring my kit?" McCoy snarled, Jim winced as he swallowed a mouthful of the coffee, he sniffed thickly.

"I'll be fine-"

"Ya'll be swimmin' in mucus is what'll ya'll be." McCoy snapped and scrubbed his face. "Knowin' Miss Cody we'll be lucky if she's got a bottle of cough syrup."

"Okay. Still with the 'Miss' Cody?" Jim muttered nasally. "And you know you can just give me a dose of Bute and I'll be fine."

"Phenlybutazone is a pain killer for horses Jim!" McCoy snapped.

"It stops fevers..." Jim muttered.

"You are either ill or on the cusp of illness." Spock stated calmly. Jim snorted at him that sounded more like an agitated stud than a human.

"I'm fine." Jim croaked, his voice cracking.

"How do ya do this? Ya were in the rain for maybe three minutes. Ya do this to me on purpose, don't ya?"

"Yeah Bones. Specifically you." Jim growled crankily and the medical officer rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath.

"Just lie down and sleep this off." McCoy ordered, pinching the bridge of his nose and crushing his eyes shut.

"Fine." Jim slumped a little more and let out a raspy breath that sounded clearly like defeat. The fight had gone out of him. He handed the coffee to Spock and started to get up.

"Where the Hell are ya goin'?" McCoy snapped and pushed Jim back down.

"I'ma sleep in my road hammock." Jim motioned towards a large roll of heavy, dark canvas on the floor next to the spindly table that supported the large glass container and Jim's two Black Moor goldfish. "Spock's got the bed."

"Jim-" Spock and McCoy started in the same breath.

"I'm not going to have this argument!" The blonde rasped. "I spent whole summers sleeping in it, if I was sick or hurt or not. It's _fine_." He broke into a small fit of coughing. "_I'm_ fine."

"Jim-" McCoy started again and Spock drew breath to speak.

"I'ma call Cody." Jim threatened.

The medical officer and hybrid went still and Jim's lip quirked in something that looked like a half-hearted smirk.

"Yer such a child."

"Are you so certain that Cody's intervention would turn this to your favor?" Spock lifted an eyebrow.

"Yup." Jim pushed himself up slowly with a small wince of his face. "Because I've got twenty years on you guys with her and she'll eat me up she loves me so."

McCoy throws his hands up and snarls. "Fine. G'wan and suffer for all I care. Let yer lungs flood and her throat close up. While yer at it get yer fever good 'n high so we gotta ice bath ya later."

The man growled, bristling like an animal, turned sharply on his heel and marched away, jerking the door open then half shut behind him.

"Love you too, Caniwahu!" Jim called after him, his voice near breaking and he coughed roughly afterwards.

"Can it Hoksilato!" Casper's muffled voice sounded from somewhere down the hall. And while he remained silent Jim made a face and childishly stuck his tongue out at the door, clearly intending for the gesture to make its way down to Casper some yards away and behind closed muster fled from the blonde after a moment and he sagged where he stood.

"Jim, I would not be adverse to sleeping in your 'road hammock'. You have regaled me often with anecdotes of sleeping in it suspended between trees or in open stalls."

"It was way easier than renting rooms in hotels for all of us on those road trips."

"Intended for showing and competing your horses?"

"Yup. Plus we were right there if the horses needed us."

Jim had explained the concept of the road hammock in the midst of speaking about the summers of his youth, lived in nomadic joy as he and the Brotherhood roamed across Iowa and United States in a claustrophobically packed truck and trailer, prowling through small towns and massive cities and snaking rodeo, horseshow and dressage awards and trophies from local favorites and well known champions. It had been strange to Jim a first, though natural to the Chicalatos who's ancestors centuries before had been nomadic by nature, he had adapted and thrived in the constant distraction and attentive care of his adopted family. And one of those adaptations had been to accept conditions in sleeping arrangements. The Chicalatos would often forgo a travelers lodge or hotel in favor of camping in feral land or sleeping in a true pile in the bed of the family work truck and often in those large cities and more prestigious rodeos and horseshows they would acquire extra stalls and space around a line of them to store their gear, set up a small circle of folding chairs and coolers and would camp out in stalls next to their horses, sleeping in heavy fabric hammocks. In their younger years sharing them before growing up enough that they had heir own. The habit had stuck with them and more often than not when Jim retreated to the Chicalato's ranch he would spend the night in a hammock strung up in Cody's room or in one of the stalls of their stable and in the warm weather posted at the Chicalato's home Jim said is was a thing if any of the Brotherhood slept in a bed at all.

"Help me?" Jim asked, hefting the large roll and shaking it out. The blonde jerked his head towards the ceiling and when Spock looked he noticed two heavy studs and hooks mounted into the ceiling. He lifted an eyebrow.

"Just grab one end."Jim coughed quietly into his collar before taking hold of one of the thick metal rings at the end of the hammock and moved to slip it over the far hook. Spock mimicked him with the other stud and end and stood back as Jim shook the fabric out until it created a suspended bowl in the air.

"Awesome." Jim moved around and rummaged into his closet, pulling out a few pillows already stuffed into shams and a large fleece blanket of light brown. He tossed them into the hammock and as the hybrid watched he lightly vaulted into the fabric bowl as easily as it had been a horse.

The blonde sighed and dropped heavily into the hammock, shifting around until he was curled around his core on his side and burrowed under the blanket and face pressed into the pillows.

Spock hesitated before moving over and leaning slightly to look over the Jim. One eye slit open, a pool of pure azure blue looked up at him. His eye looked dull and glassy. He blinked slowly and sniffed heavily.

"What?" He croaked.

"You seemed to have achieved an optimal level of comfort, though considered my first impression of the idea of sleeping such a way it would not be so."

Jim hummed quietly.

"There has been research concerning the healing properties of simple things that have very little to do with true medicine."

A golden eyebrow twitched up and Spock proceeded.

"Many believe that small creature comforts, such a a preferred place to sleep, a favorite object or entertainment or exposure to certain company in addition to medical attention speeds the healing process. Conclusively then the more of these comforts you partake in the speedier your recovery. Therefore I would see that you obtain more than the singular of a preferred place to sleep-"

"And company." Jim rasped. "Got good company. Misery loves company."

Spock's browns dipped harshly. "You are miserable."

"Just right now. Remember when you get sick you feel bad all over and all through you."

"I have never been ill."

Jim narrowed his eyes. "C'mon."

"It is true. I have always been well dated on vaccinations as well as spent much time in close supervision of Healers and medical professionals."

Jim sat up a little, head cocked slightly. "You were never sick but you spent all the time in the hospital?"

Spock shifted and Jim's eyebrows shot into his hairline at the movement. Spock steeled himself. More than once Jim had been nothing but honest with him, disclosing information when it could have been denied. Things both joyful and painful. Spock started to speak.

"You don't ha-"

"My genetic composition is an impossibility."

Jim's eyebrows twitched. "There's more to it than that."

"Though our races are similar the prospect of crossbreeding is not possible in a natural setting and improbable in a medical one." Spock paused and took a breath before continuing quietly. "Before my father and mother took their marriage vow he had previously sired a son with a Vulcan female."

"You have a brother?"

"A half brother and I do not wish to speak on Sybok at this time."

Jim must have caught just the touch of emotion in hybrid's voice and backed off. "Sure."

"To continue... after my mother's bonding to my father she was made aware of this. As a human and a school teacher she had a fondness for children and wanted one of her own and was perhaps driven by some form of jealousy in the matter as well. My father and several Healers set to reason with her the illogic and difficulty and danger of pursuing the notion. As many humans she refused reason and insisted on making an attempt. For nearly a year, with advanced medical techniques and professionals far a head of their field these attempts were made. Engineering a viable embryo was difficult and proved even more so, once transferred, to carry to term."

Spock hesitated and Jim remained still for a moment.

"How many times did she miscarry?"

"Six."

Spock breathed slowly and stiffly, wetting his lips.

"My mother suffered physically, mentally and emotionally with each failure. My father believed that she was causing herself harm purposely. He tried repeatedly to discourage her and mourned with her in each loss. He... he loved her deeply."

Spock absently reached out where Nemo A534 was perched on the edge of the mattress and stroked the one eyed Shepherd's head, fingering his ears.

"He could not endure the repeated loss of possible offspring as well as the pain my mother felt and denied her an eighth attempt. The seventh... my engineering, was already in process and he would not discontinue it in the midst of it's conduction. As you can see, remarkably, the seventh attempt proved successful. Though not without consequences. I did not make it to full term. My birth was premature by a full three weeks as complications arose and emergency surgery was done to ensure both our survival. Due to my genetic impossibility and early delivery I developed some difficulties as a child, typically with respiration and skeletal strength structurally, until I was five years of age. It was also the intention of many Healers and scientist and geneticists to study my biology. I underwent in depth testing weekly for the first Terran decade of my life before proceeding with developmental monitoring monthly until my departure for Starfleet. It continued when it was requested of Starfleet medical to take up the observation and report."

Jim stiffened. "Bones-"

"Doctor McCoy has refused to take part. As he is now my registered physician it had been two point three five six year since the Vulcan medical database has obtained an updated file of my development."

Jim was silent for a long moment and Sock kept his focus on the German Shepherd.

"No wonder you throw such a fit in sickbay. Give Bones so much trouble."

Spock felt the wire between his shoulders go taught and his muscles lock.

"Can't blame you for one second. I'd hate doctors two if I spent my whole life on a biobed."

"You must understand the scientific value of my creation."

"I understand the _value_ of your creation... you mom didn't like it too much, did she?"

"She disliked the arrangement but did not oppose it. She confessed a constant fear for my survival. Many speculated that as I aged I would eventually relent to some form of disease or my genetics would fail in ultimately deteriorate."

Jim made a slight face. "Expect they didn't spare your mom much on the matter. Told her all that stuff right from the start."

Spock nodded.

"No wonder she was scared of losing you... after a year of trying-"

"Engineering."

"Spock." Jim's voice was so sharp it cut into the hybrid and he snapped his attention around to meet blue eyes flashing silver. "You say 'engineered' or any for thereof one more time and I'll turn you inside out. Listen... I don't care how it happened. I would have figured that you would have picked up that around here, to us, to me, that it doesn't matter where you come from. The hows or whys aren't important. It's what you do that matters. Hell. You could be a robot with really good programming and I wouldn't care if it was still _you_."

Spock pulled his gaze away towards the darkness and chattering rain outside the series of windows along the wall.

Jim coughed a few times, losing his muster again, his voice was cracking and his breath becoming a wheeze. "On a side note... your mom. Totally glorious."

**

* * *

**

**A/N: I actually had some really bad guilt when I was writing the part about soft mouths and bits. I'm guilty of being a bit-abuser. When I first bought Magic seven years ago we had communication problems and when I got frustrated I would end up yanking on her mouth pretty hard. There was one event between us that I remember vividly that makes my stomach hurt how bad it was to remember it. It took a near breakdown and an extremely hard mouthed Magic before I realized what I was doing to someone I loved deeply and I immediately went to work softening her mouth again. I've had an aversion to bits ever since, afraid that I'll fall back by accident on the bad habit of hard handling the bit. I continue to use them simply because I don't own a bosal but hopefully I'll get one soon and except for training I'll be able to do away with the bits altogether. **

**Lucky for me Magic is extremely forgiving.**

**So some Cody and Spock love there, sugar!Spock is now on my list of something!Spocks. She's convinced of our favorite hybrid's sweet nature. **

**Which leads in the genetics stuff. No one really goes into how Spock's the only Vulcan Human hybrid out there and I figured that's either because of the cultural taboo or its really friggin' hard to make it happen. It's more dramatic if its a near impossibility that Spock exists. I mean, AI will have certainly improved in two hundred and forty years but interspecies relationships and crossbreeding has got to not only be a big issue but a serious undertaking to create. And i figure if Spock's the only one of himself that the Vulcan (and human) geneticists and scientists would be scrambling to get a crack at him, I figured that as a crossbreed growing up with an inquisitive and scientifically driven species/community that Spock would spend at least a third of his lifetime under medical observation and that can drive anyone to shy away from medical treatment. Makes for a good reason why Spock tries to bail on sickbay and gives McCoy so much trouble all the time.**

**Anyway. R&R. Hope ya'll liked. **

**Much Love**

**Mary**


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary: **_**Jim managed a weak smile. "I'll be alright. It just caught me before I could out run it."**_

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**Lost Horse Creek, Montana**

"**When you are lonely, let me be your companion. When you are tired, let me carry the load. When you need to learn, let me teach you… after all, I am your horse."**

**-Unknown**

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**Chapter Eleven: The Repercussions of External Influences (And How to Cope)**

**"**_**If a problem has no solution, it may not be a problem, but a fact - not to be solved, but to be coped with over time.**_**"**

**- Shimon Peres**

* * *

_**Native Sky Ranch**_

_**124 Flathead Road,**_

_**Lost Horse Creek, Bitterroot Mountain Range, Rocky Mountains, Ravalli County, Montana**_

_**Stardate: 2260**_

_**October 22**_

_**0346 Hours**_

…

Spock stirred from his meditation and sleep so consistently that night he would have more productive if he hadn't attempted sleep at all.

A soft chatter against the panes of window glass was testament that the frigid rain continued to fall outside. The sound of Hota and his pack singing in the distance was a constant background to the rasping, wet wheezes that commanded most of Spock's focus.

Spock laid with his eyes half open, adjusted to the dark. He was curled up slightly around his core and listening intently to each breath that Jim drew in then choked coarsely back out. His breathing getting periodically worse, sounding nasal or whistled and occasionally choked altogether.

There was nothing Spock could do. He could not offer to change positions and settle Jim in his bed, to do so would require waking the blonde. He could not offer medical care nor cure. He could not even offer to suffer with Jim, he'd had escaped the ordeal of the frigid rain and icy water unscathed and now lied physically comfortable and acceptably warm.

Burrowed under the heavy bedclothes balled in a cocoon of his own making. He was bathed in Jim's scent, layered up so thick and heavy on his skin and in his hair Spock pondered the probability that he would loose his own in the wash of his scent. Sweet hay and lingering bite of sweat and bitter soap and slight stomach turning touch of leather, the faded musk of Nemo A534 and general smell of horse, all lightened and tied together with something like spiced honey, milk, coffee and ozone that only life in the abyss of space could leave.

It felt like a betrayal.

Made all the more intimate awash and comfortable in Jim scent and bed and listening to the other man struggling to breath and choke through some kind of nightmare or dream.

At one point, not too long after Jim had fallen into his labored sleep the door had opened quietly and Cody had slipped in, illuminated just slightly by the pale light of the hall. Her arms were bundled with a mass that looked like a blanket or a quilt. She padded nearly silently over to the suspended bundle and tipped it just enough that it swung gently and she could look in better. Spock had watched closely as Cody draped the blanket over Jim's frame.

It'd flashed once in the light and Spock's eyebrow tilted up into his hairline as he recognized the blue, purple and black patterns of the horse quilt that had once been Colt's. Cody paused, her hands toyed with a slightly worn plush horse. The faded gold fleece fur and black yarn tail and mane of what looked somewhat like a buckskin. The toy flopped in Cody's hands as he paused contemplating for a moment before resolving herself and tucked the toy in next to Jim's chest. The petite rancher had then lightly stroked back Jim's hair and backed quietly back out of the room and pulled the door shut behind her.

For a few long moments it seemed that Jim's breathing had eased, then just as quickly had collapsed again into the broken, rough wheezes that continued well into the morning.

His mind drifted occasionally but consistently returned to listening to Jim's labored breathing.

His mind was drifting as some point early in the morning when the door opened again and back lit by the light of the hallway Cody's small frame closely followed by McCoy bulkier one slipped in, it couldn't have been later than four in the morning. Spock stiffened before pushing himself up to sitting up right.

Next to him Nemo A534 rolled over onto his belly and lifted his head off his paws. He whined softly and ticked his ears back and forth.

Cody and McCoy flicked their eyes in his direction. Cody absently brushed hand over Jim's shoulder before stepping over to where Spock shifted until he was sitting on the edge of the bed.

She eased down next to him.

McCoy stayed close to the hammock and proceeded to gently rouse Jim and give him a light examination, speaking to each other in low tones. The sound of their voices mingled with the chatter of rain against the windows.

_'He has had difficulty breathing for the duration of the night. I have attempted to monitor its severity.'_ Spock signed, making sure his hands were cast in the bar of light from the hall.

Cody nodded but made no inclinations concerning the implication that Spock had spent most of the night listening to Jim breath. _**It is in his lungs and chest. Rock solid too from the way his ribs are vibrating.**_

_'You are able to diagnose the severity of his condition through the vibration of his torso?'_

_**How did you think I figured it out with the horses?**_

Spock paused and pondered the logic behind the statement before he heard Jim cough roughly and wheeze wetly.

_'He is very ill?'_

Cody shook her head and smiled reassuringly. _**Not as bad as it seems. Sweat him out and flush his systems and plenty of sleep he'll be back in the saddle by tomorrow. **_

Spock nodded slowly.

_**Haven't been sick much?**_

_'No. My health has consistently been optimal and well monitored for the duration of my life.'_

_**Little scary, isn't it? Especially when its someone you care about.**_

_'It is unsettling.' _Spock paused for a moment.

_**Because you can't help him?**_

_'Jim is often in situations that result in his injury or incapacitation.' _

_**Doesn't make it any easier to sit through.**_

Spock went very still and Cody licked her lips.

_**There is something you can do for him, sugar.**_

Spock lifted his eyebrows.

_**Be a buffer. There's going to be alot of traffic going in and out of here because of him deciding to take a swim in Pestilence's pool. If you can be a rock for him it'd do him good. With the Pups and the Brotherhood and the dogs and everything. **_

_'Then, would it not be more productive to be absent and provide a level of privacy?'_

_**That's bull and you know it.**_

Spock lifted an eyebrow.

_**All else aside, the reason you're here in the first place is because of him. Don't leave him now.**_

Spock paused, _'The chores-'_

_**Can be done by the brothers for today. They know how to muck and feed and ride. About time I put them to work again anyway. Just sit tight and give Len a hand with Jim. Hell you'll be killing two birds with a shot. Little company and distraction goes a long way for a pack animal like Len, he'll never admit it but he's terrified about the deposition this morning. **_

_'Concerning his daughter?'_

_**Yes. Today its just all paperwork and lawyers being all passive aggressive at each other without clients or judges around yet. But the thing is his baby girl is literally in touching distance. She's in state, within twenty miles. It's making him crazy.**_

Cody pulled her eyes away from Spock and looked to where McCoy was standing over Jim with his arm's crossed over his chest. The hybrid had never seen him so dressed down, wearing loose fitting jeans and a over large, cream sweater and barefoot. His hair was ruffled and eyes half lidded as if he hadn't slept soundly. Spock inspected the doctor closely and noticed that there was a rigid tension in the man's spine and shoulders. He was fidgeting, small twitches and jerks of his skin, as if there was an itch he couldn't reach.

Though McCoy was speaking quietly and keeping Jim awake and focused for the moment it was clear that the older man was some what distracted and if anything feeling residual guilt for that distraction as he was being unusually soft toned and light handed with the ill blonde.

Spock studied McCoy for another few moments before nodding his agreement. Cody smiled and squeezed his forearm as she stood. Spock followed suit. Nemo A534 levered his weight up to his paws and stepped carefully down to the end of the bed.

"Ya done sleepin'?" McCoy growled softly.

"I have achieved a sufficient amount of rest." The hybrid dipped his head. Next to him Cody shook her head slightly

"Then give goldilocks here a hand into his bed."

"I can do it."

Jim's voice sounded raw and torn, thick with pressure. Jim sat up slightly in the hammock, his hair a mussed nest of wheat standing on end. His eyes were lidded and dull, the cerulean of his eyes was paled out to point that it was a color nearer to white than blue. His face was flushed in some places and paled in others and he looked altogether miserable.

The blonde shifted around and moved to the edge of the hammock and shifted to slide to the floor before the hammock tipped and the blonde spilled out the floor with a muffled yelp and the sickening sound of flesh impacting with hardwood.

Spock closed the distance in a fraction of a second, McCoy already crouching and tugging Jim gently up right. The blonde whined softly and gingerly rubbed the side of his skull, threading his fingers in his hair.

Jim blinked slowly and shifted to get onto his feet only to slump back again.

"Damnit all, boy." McCoy rumbled and deftly hooked one hand under Jim's armpit and nodded for Spock to do the same.

The hybrid twined his arm with Jim and flinched slightly. The temperature of Jim's skin had risen significantly. It was nearer to a Vulcan's, even through the fabric of Jim's hooded sweatshirt. It felt odd and actually scorched against Spock's. His hand lightly wrapped around Jim's wrist and swallowed hard against the heat and the lack of pressure from the blonde's mind. It was like Jim's consciousness was wrapped thickly in heat and fog. His thoughts were disjointed and dulled, cottony and heavy. Briefly something would sharpen then be sucked away again under the weight of fever and congested breathing.

"On three. One. Two-" McCoy commanded and Spock pulled upwards as McCoy did and they hauled the blonde's near dead weight up to his feet. His knees almost buckled before he dug fingers into the doctor and hybrid to stay upright.

It was a well practiced move between Spock and McCoy to shuffle Jim around and settle him down onto his side in the bed. More than once similar circumstances had risen that they needed to perform the move and it seemed, even in the safety of Native Sky they were destined to continue with the same odd but necessary dance.

Jim slumped into the mattress and let his head loll back, exposing the long line of his throat and slight bob of his Adam's apple. The skin was flushed and slick with a layer of sweat. Spock nose wrinkled slightly at the small ripple of scent that drifted up from the dampened skin, spiced honey, milk and ozone, pushed against his senses. The scent heavier and headier made by Jim's sweating and fever.

He attention broke when McCoy pressed fingers into the delicate, pulsing skin of the blonde's throat. The large vein fluttered slightly under the pressure and Jim swallowed heavily.

McCoy snarled something that wasn't Standard and made Spock lift his eyebrows. Jim's eyes were unfocused and looking distractedly at something on the floor. Spock half twisted and watched as Cody scooped up Colt's quilt and the old buckskin horse plush, she moved over and once McCoy had pulled up the sheets and comforter, Cody heaped the quilt on top and held the toy out to Jim.

"I don't need him." Him muttered. Cody made a silent sigh before tugging up the corner of the blanket and forcefully tucking the stuffed animal into the curve of Jim's stomach and dropped the blankets back into place.

Jim grunted and made a small struggled effort but the toy did not reemerge from the cave against Jim's belly. His eyes glazed over and a rough rasp of breath tore from his throat harshly. It sounded like it was supposed to be a cough but Jim didn't posses the force to perform it correctly.

"It'd like for ya to get showered down but ya'll just sweat through again anyway." Mccoy sighed and rubbed the back of his neck before tugging at the edge of his hair. "Sweatin' it out'll do ya better than stayin' cool right now anyway."

Jim didn't respond with more than a wheeze and turned his face into his pillow and drew in a thick, congested breath. His brow knit together, teeth clenching and a soft noise of pain rippling from his throat before dying.

Nemo A534 whined softly and moved back up the bed and bellied down, stretching out protectively against Jim's back. The German Shepherd's one brown eyes rolled around, lighting on each McCoy and Cody before settling on Spock. The dog whined again, pinning his ears before pressing his nose into the sweat slick juncture of Jim's throat, jaw and ear. The blonde jerked as if he'd been slapped.

"Cold..." Jim murmured with a shiver before settling again.

"I'm orderin' a damn kit!" McCoy snapped, and bristling stalked away with hackles raised. Spock and Cody watched him exit. The petite rancher smiling fondly.

_**It's the Fox in him. I'll take him out to Darby later. I'm sure Doc'll give him anything he wants. **_

_'Doc' is a physician, I assume.'_

_**Only one in town. Ryan Rhado. He and Stephen Strain share a practice. **_

_'You have previously stated that 'Doc' was the only physician in Darby and yet he shares a practice?'_

_**Doc Stain's the vet.**_

_'... This does not seem ideal for sanitation and prevention of cross contamination.'_

_**Sugar, it's not like they're in the same room. Doc works out of the house and Doc Strain out of the stable. It's just easier for them to work a practice together because they're... well... together.**_

Spock's brow furrowed. _'Romantically?'_

Cody nodded.

Spock cocked his head slightly, "Fascinating."

Cody smiled and rolled her eyes slightly. Lips still quirked she twitched her head towards the door. _**Come get something to eat and you can bring something up to Jim later.**_

Spock hesitated, looking down at the lax form of Jim half curled on his side.

_**I'd say he'd be here when you get back but knowing Jim it's likely he might pull a Geronimo.**_

_'Geronimo?'_

_**We had a Thoroughbred ex-racehorse for a while that we tried to build into a dressage mount for Jim but he was too restless and jumped fences so we renamed him Geronimo and sold him to a trainer for cross country prospect. After Geronimo. The **__**Chiricahua**__** Apache... one of the last resistance fighters against the new American government. He was captured half a dozen times and escaped each time.**_

Spock's eyebrow tilted up. Cody's shoulder dipped slightly.

_**It's not that important. **_

_'On the contrary. His exploits sound intriguing. I expect you have a text on the matter.'_

Cody smiled and dipped her head. _**It's all yours. Come on. You'll be right back.**_

Cody gently tugged his sleeve and pulled him towards the door. Spock looked back and locked eyes with Nemo A534. The dog looked at him with ears cocked forwards and for a moment the light tricked the young hybrid into seeing the dog wink his single eye.

Still bundled in his borrowed flannels and hooded sweatshirt Spock padded quietly behind Cody, the stairs creaking quietly under their weight and they headed to the kitchen. Cody suddenly stopped him, lifting a hand so they paused on the stairs.

_**Listen sugar. Before this goes further you need to know something about human men. They can be the biggest, toughest animal the woods but there are times in their lives when they become the biggest, whiniest momma's boys you've ever seen. When they're really really hungry or when they're really really sick. Jim is really really sick. He is going to be a whining, demanding, disagreeable heap of miserable flesh for the next twenty eight hours or so. Knowing him he pretty much zeroes in on one individual specifically to make as miserable as himself for the duration. I'm guessing it's going to be you. It would be best on everyone's psyches if you just go along with whatever he wants. And for your suffering, at the end of the ordeal, you will get cake. Alright sugar?**_

Spock paused, processing what he'd been told and preparing himself mentally through the warning before nooding. Spock highly doubted that the situation would be nearly as traumatizing as Cody made it out to be.

_**You're a good boy, sugar.**_

They continued down the stairs and into the kitchen. The room was lit by the same dull glow but seemed warmer than normal. The air was thick with the scent of cooked food and heavy with the deep bass rumble of music from and antique radio set into a corner of the corner as it steadily poured out old rock music. Spock was certain the warmth it was due to the number of warm bodied in the room. All four of the brothers were roused and more than awake, Canteska, Wagi, Situpsa and Anahme were curled up together on the large cushion in the corner.

Creek, Casper and Cikala were dressed and ready for cold weather and long work. Their shirts layered and jeans slung down around the heels of their boots. Their belts were heavy with the weight of radio comm units, large hunting knives and in Cikala's situation a standard issue firearm for a police officer. They were sipping the last of their coffees and chewing on thick chunks of heavy, hand made scones.

Cokata was parked at the end of the table, surrounded by several data pads, scattered paper work, and the personal lap top. He was writing rapidly in a dog eared spiral notebook, pen skidding over the surface in quick, hard letters. Spock recognized McCoy's personal data pad among the chaos. McCoy was scrubbing his hands in the sink as if he intended to go into surgery. Cody crossed and relayed her intention to take him to see Rhado and Strain. McCoy nodded.

"Hey Spock. How's our blue eyed rodeo king doin'?" Casper rumbled softly, his dark eyes brimming with worry. His question brought attention to Spock's presence and the rest of the Brotherhood looked up at him.

The hybrid dipped his head. "He seems considerably ill, has contracted difficulty in his respiration system and sinuses, he is fevered and disoriented. I believe it to be considerable ailment but Doctor McCoy and Cody have assured me it is minor."

The four Chicalato brothers twisted to look towards the pair. They seemed relatively oblivious, standing in close quarters McCoy had dipped his head to sip out of Cody's offered mug. He straightened as he swallowed and licked his lips, considering the taste before nodding and jerkily signing 'not bad' to the petite rancher who smiled gently.

Cikala made a displeased, harsh noise low in his throat and Casper glared at him. Cokata rolled his eyes and Creek seemed oblivious, to engrossed in his diminishing scone.

"Hey, Caniwahu." Casper called.

McCoy's head snapped up and he stepped back from Cody a fraction and sipped out of his own coffee mug.

"What the kid say right? Hoksilato gonna be alright?"

"It's a minor cold, in his chest and head. He'll sweat it out and after I get some equipment from Rhado and he'll be fine by the mornin'... if his systems don't go haywire before then."

_**He's not all that bad, Len.**_

The medical officer made a sharp noise that sounded like some bastardization of a snort, curse and laugh.

"Can't ya just dose him with some Bute?" Casper asked.

The muscle of McCoy's bicep contracted as if he intended to throw his mug but refrained.

"Lookit the self-control." Cikala deadpanned and Mccoy stiffened.

_**Cikala if you remember how to go get your ass on a horse.**_

The narcotics officer rolled his eyes as he tugged on a heavier coat he whistled sharply. somewhere above there was a scramble and the large, long coated Collie, Ceskika trotted up to Cikala. the dog barked in a high pitched voice and followed on the officer's heels as Cikala stalked out the door.

_**Hey. You guys thought I meant just him? Get to it. Saddle up. Slickers are in the tack room.**_

Casper sighed and Creek quickly stuffed the rest of his scone into his mouth. The two brothers pulled on their jackets and Casper whistled up the stairs the same way that Cikala had. Scraping claws announced the arrival of Uta, the large Rottweiler. The dog bounded a head of Casper and Creek as the two brothers slipped out.

McCoy remained tense, his jaw locked hard. Cody touched his elbow lightly, making the doctor jerk once before calming. He muttered something inaudibly before stalking out of the room, his bare feet silent on the terra cotta tiles.

Cokata's eyes flickered towards the movement before falling back to the screen. Cody made a motion for Spock to sit at the table. The hybrid followed the silent order and eased down into a chair. He observed Cokata in contemplative silence until Cody set a bowl of still steaming bowl of oatmeal, mixed heavily with brown sugar, a bit of soy milk and the remaining cranberries from the scone batter.

_**There you go, sugar. And the book is in my room on the desk.**_

Spock dipped his head and offered a sign of thanks as Cody poured him a tall glass of thick orange juice. The petite rancher had given up trying to make tea for Spock about a week and a half earlier and was resigned to portioning out other drinks for him. The hybrid started in on his bowl of oatmeal, taking measured mouthfuls efficiently and quickly without seeming like he was rushing.

When half of both the juice and oatmeal had gone Cokaa leaned back suddenly in his wheel chair, pinched the ridge of his nose and sighed quietly.

"Are you well Cokata?" Spock inquired quietly.

"Jocelyn Duaphin is a class-A bitch. She hired some hacker to start fuckin' 'round in Joanna's files, changin' her parentage."

Spock's brow narrowed. "What?"

"About half of the certificates and pedigrees don't have Caniwahu's name or signature on 'em anymore. I need Hoksilato's mad skills right about now."

"'Mad skills'." Spock's brow knit slightly. "You are referring to Jim's familiarity with computers and system construction."

"The boy makes handlin' these thin's-" Cokata motioned towards the lap top. "-look like breathin'. Him and his giant brain."

"Jim's brain is nor larger than the average size and weight for a human of his approximate age." Spock protested quietly. "And he is incapacitated."

"I wouldn't ask 'im while's he's sick anyway, last time we tried to get him to do super genius stuff when he was bellied out we ended up knockin' out half the power grid."

Spock hesitated before motioning for Cokata to push the computer his way.

"May I?"

Cokata looked at him for a second before sliding the computer over.

"I tried accessin' everythin' with my BAR Association clearance but I can't get that deep into the file system to change it back... like I would know how, anyway." Cokata muttered.

"It is illegal to alter officiated documentation without correct submission of requesting alteration of the files, is it not? Especially without the consent of individuals that participated in the original certification of the document barring their deaths and or written consent or a conviction of neglect or dangerous intentions towards the documents or their assigned contents and or subject matter. Correct, Cokata?"

The counselor blinked slightly. "Yeah. Yeah it is."

"Miss Dauphin conducted these alterations through a more skilled individual in such a manner, did she not?"

Cokata narrowed his eyes slightly before his lips quirked up in understanding. "She sure did, Spock. Her actions were wholly and completely against the laws of both her state as well as standard laws concerning birth and life documentation in the United States."

Spock fingers skimmed neatly over the keys and in a matter of a few seconds accessed he needed information to crack into the system but paused before doing so.

"Cokata there is no true way to prove the Miss Dauphin was the one who instigated this attack on the documentation."

"But Spock, this offense is a punishable one and is consequences are extremely dangerous to the well being of the child's father and his relationship with the child. The sire is an upstanding citizen of the United States as well as a recognized member of Starfleet elite. His records both legal and medical are impeccable and without even expunged blemishes. Is it logical for such a man to suffer? For his relationship with his child to suffer?"

Spock lifted his chin slightly. "It is not."

"And Spock, considering that we cannot apprehend, confront or convict the speculated source of the threat against this man and his daughter and her documentation, though we do have the means and technology, provided by yourself, to correct the damaged documentation is it not pure logic _and_ moral obligation as you a respected member of Starfleet to help you comrade and I an officer of the law and court to defend those that cannot defend themselves that we do what we can to correct the damaged done?"

Spock tipped his head. "Most logical indeed."

The hybrid turned to the laptop and in a blur of movement accessed and bypassed the security systems and tapped into the original records. Cody crossed and leaned over Spock's shoulder watching his movements and the reaction of the lap top.

"A systematic cleaning program referred to as a 'scrubber' will suffice. It seems the damage is contained on a surface level. The programmer was either unskilled or had a disinterest in the construct of his alterations." Spock reasoned aloud, before he glanced at the systems the lap top offered. He lifted an eyebrow. "This is Jim's personal computer?"

"Yeah." Cokata sipped his cooling coffee. "He's fine with us usin' it and everythin' but I'm sure if he was hidin' somethin' it'd be encrypted enough that we couldn't figure it out anyway."

Spock's brow furrowed as he skimmed through the surface programs and applications of Jim's system. He could almost sense the layered securities and encoded data below the visible surface. He found a sufficient scrubber program and swiftly applied it, intending to remove himself from the temptation of challenge of cracking Jim's systems as the blonde had once hacked Spock's own deigns.

At his ear Cody's lips pulled into a smile as the scrubber reverse engineered the damage until the logged documentation had regained it's original design. The information concerning McCoy siring Joanna and her maiden name and medical information reverting to their natural state. Cody's hand settled in Spock's shoulder and squeezed hard. Across the table Cokata grinned into his mug.

"I intend to create a seal to safeguard the documents from future distortion." Spock said aloud.

"What's goin' on in here?" McCoy rumbled stepping back into the kitchen and set his empty coffee mug in the sink before stalking over to Cody's side. He passed a thick hardcopy file, filled with printed papers over to Cokata.

"Remember that issue we had earlier?" The counselor asked, cocking his head and leafing absently through the file. McCoy tensed but nodded curtly. "Spock turned it into smoke and blew it away."

McCoy was silent for a moment.

"What?"

"I have scrubbed and reconstructed the damage done to the medical and birth documentation concerning Joanna McCoy-Dauphin."

"Zephyrine."

"Pardon?" Spock tilted his head back.

"Her middle name. It's Zephyrine."

Spock's brow furrowed eyes flicking to the screen and noticing the sectional concerning the child's middle name was considerably blank. He lifted and eyebrow at the doctor.

"It's French." McCoy said quickly and swallowed heavily. "Spock... please."

The hybrid only hesitated to figure the spelling before adding the information back into the documents, then sealing them.

"Thank ya." McCoy said quietly.

Spock lifted an eyebrow. "There is no thanks necessary, Doctor McCoy. The alterations done to these files was performed illegally lacking proper authorization. Their distortion would create complications for Miss McCoy-Dauphin in her adolescence and adulthood.

The relation to you suggest the possibility of advanced intelligence despite an equal possibility of an explosive temper. Such document distortion could easily rob Miss McCoy-Dauhpin and society in general of the possibility of making a very large impact on history. As Cokata argued, considering that we could not for certain locate and prosecute the programmer responsible for the alterations and have them corrected through traditional means, it was only logical that we restore the documentation to it's natural state ourselves with the resources at hand."

McCoy licked his lips and nodded silently, the lack of response making Spock sit more stiffly in his seat. Before the tension could settle, McCoy jumped slightly when Cody gently tugged a lock of the medical officer's dark hair. The man's mossy green eyes flashed and narrowed at her before he sulkily reached up and ruffled his hair back into place.

Cokata chuckled and locked eyes with Spock as the hybrid passed the laptop back, the counselor jerked his head towards Cody and McCoy. "Twitterpainted."

"Shut up Cokata." McCoy snapped gruffly. "Nothin' of the sort."

"Doctor McCoy, you pallor has altered. Have you contracted Jim's fever?"

McCoy sputtered and slightly flushed stalked swiftly out of the room.

The brother grinned widely. "Give me a high five in the air, Spock. That was awesome."

"Cokata, Vulcan hands-"

"No I mean, in the air. Look watch. Sis." Cokata turned and lifted his arm, offering his palm to Cody. "In the air."

Cody raised her own arm and they made a motion to slap their palms together but refrained from making final contact, leaving a sizable gap between their hands.

"See?" Cokata made the same offering of his palm to Spock.

The hybrid hesitated before mimicking and performing the motion forwards. Leaving the gap between their hands before retracting his arm.

"Yes." Cokata chuckled, "Is it just me or are ya gettin' more righteous by the second?"

"A wider poll of the conclusion would be required to prove the validity of your assumption that I am growing progressively more honorable, just and morally ethical in accordance to my actions." Spock responded.

Cokata grinned at Cody and pointed at Spock. "This guy."

Cody sighed silently. _**Got to hit the mountain. Depositions at eight?**_

Cokata nodded.

_**We'll go in and drop you off when I'm taking Len over to see Doc.**_

"Sound's good to me." Cokata jerked his thumb towards the door. "Go. Boogie."

Cody rolled her eyes.

_**Keep an eye on our boy, sugar. When you're done take some tea or something light up to him and see if he can stomach it. **_

The hybrid dipped his head in agreement and turned back to finishing his meal efficiently and quickly. Cody tugged on her suede and fleeced jacket and snapped her fingers with one hand while tucking her Stetson into place over her head and down around her ears. Wagi and Situpsa climbed out of the small pile of animal in the corner and trotted out the door with her.

Spock paused, looking at Cokata for a moment before speaking.

"I have been told the before you were a prosecutor that you participated in a unit of law enforcement referred to at 'special victims'."

Cokata paused and looked up at him. The brother sighed quietly before pushing the lap top aside and folded his hands on the table top.

"This about Hoksilto, right?"

Spock stiffened, eyebrows lifting towards his hairline and the counselor's lips quirked gently.

"Don't look so shocked. No one in this family can keep their mouths shut when a shiny new toy is in the house." Cokata motioned towards Spock, he sighed and rubbed his hands together. "First off, Spock, ya need to know that I never had anythin' to do with or handled any of Jim's cases, files or medical records. They're sealed, nobody but a federal judge can touch 'em. So I honestly don't know too much 'bout what happened. He doesn't talk 'bout it. Cody knows more than anyone else. She was the one that would just leave at random times and come back trailin' that boy behind her with new bruises on his face. She always knew when he needed her, she was always there. I don't think there's anyone in the world he trusts more. Hell, she probably knows the story better'n Jim."

Spock hesitated. "Would not he be the chief authority on the matter?"

Cokata made a kind of pained face. "See that's one of the biggest problems about this kind of thing. Especially so young. Abuse, when it happens, the body'll go into a kind of survival mode. While it's takin' all this punishment it'll convince the brain that it's not happenin', or there's a good reason for it, or Hell, they deserve it."

"_Deserve_ it?" Spock nearly snapped.

"It's a copin' mechanism." Cokata said quickly. "When yer so young sometimes ya don't understand what's happenin' to ya, especially when when its surrounded in so much pain. Especially when its comin' from someone that's supposed to be proctectin' ya. It's just a way to make sense of somethin', make it bearable so they keep goin'. So that it... seems reasonable and they can live with it."

Spock unfolded and refolded his hands, fidgeting as much as any Vulcan could.

"Jim related to me that he preferred that he be afflicted with the... damage than his mother."

Cokata hook his head. "Spock. Jim's mom wasn't 'round."

Spock locked eyes with the counselor.

"She couldn't look at 'im. She probably kind of blamed 'im. Ya know what happened when he was born, right?" Cokata paused and continued after the hybrid nodded. "She was always off planet or workin'. She was maybe there for holidays. The older brother was at boardin' school half the time. Jim was pretty much on his own."

"He deceived me-"

"No Spock." Cokata said harshly, making the hybrid jump slightly. "Far as I can tell he'd _never_ lie to ya. What he told ya is what he believes. It's what he _knows_ happened. Fact is he was probably more honest with ya than he has been with someone outside of the family since Caniwahu."

Spock took a moment for the information to absorb before nodding.

"Spock... don't judge 'im for this. He could've been much worse, he could've been broken. People don't recover from this easy there's always some kind of consequence. Jim's no exception, his damage is done and it's a part of 'im now."

"It consists of his skewed perception of the situation?" Spock posed it carefully as a question.

"Yeah. That and a few other thin's. Nothin' he cain't get by with."

Spock tensed. "What else?"

"We'll... ya know. He's got problems with relationships, 'n just a teeniest bit of multiple personality disorder, but most of us figure that probably would have happened any way the way that his imagination and his big ol' brain goin' all the time. I'd hope ya'd notice by know that Copenhagen smile of his is a lie. The hero complex and self-worth problems. Trust issues. Um, what what else... got little bit of an aversion to physical contact."

Spock's eyebrows tilted up, then his eyes narrowed. As their friendship had slowly strengthened Spock had taken note of the blonde's care and hesitation to make contact with the young hybrid. Seen the slight distress that it caused the human. And what contact he made was often sharp and short lived. Jim broke off handshakes a fraction faster than most humans, he jerked if he was touched without warning and could often be seen rolling his shoulders or flexing his hands after contact. Spock had believed that Jim had only become more conscious and careful about personal space due to his exposure to Spock's own need for physical space.

It had never occurred to him that Jim himself shied from the touch of others.

"Physical contact?"

"He's easy to flinch and if he gets manhandled he can get real aggressive." Cokata admitted with a twitch of one shoulder. "Cody's got kinda lee way on that. She's the exception to the rule. And Caniwahu, he's real good about givin' enough warnin' that it never seems like Jim spooks from 'im. And, uh, he never lets on but he's scared to leave himself alone with kids. Which is ridiculous, the way he doted on Colt and the rest of the pups."

"Why would this fear manifest?"

"Statistics are against him. It's not unusual for the abused to turn into abusers. Repeat the process the next generation, inflict the same damage on their own kids."

Spock shook his head, resolute. "It is not in Jim's nature to harm another willingly. He would no more lay his hand on a child than he would his horses."

Cokata smiled. "Well, Spock. Looks like ya got 'Jim' figured out more 'n Jim does. Speakin' of Hoksilato. This interview it over."

Spock stiffened, unsure if he'd overstepped his bounds.

"As shy as our boy can be about bein' touched, he is most certainly in need of good company." Cokata smiled slightly and lifted his arms above his head linking his fingers and stretched, he arched his back so deeply that his wheelchair rocked back a little.

Spock took the cue, dipping his head slightly in silent thanks and received a dismissive wave in return as Spock collected a mug and mixing together a reduced version of his own favored tea. Adding more spiced honey than Spock himself enjoyed. Only after Jim's mug was finished and cooling did Spock mix his own drink. Hefting both the hybrid made his way out of the kitchen.

"Thanks again for yer help." Cokata called quietly.

Spock paused. "I was only logical to do so."

Cokata's lips quirked. "Sure thin'. See ya later Cahapi."

Spock's eyebrow tilted up at the foreign word before turning and starting up the steps at an even and slow pace, ensuring none of the two drinks slopped onto his hands or shirt. He glimpsed a clock mounted on the dimly lit wall, a quarter of an hour until five in the morning. Spock strode passed Cody's room resolving to return for the book about Geronimo at a later time. He slipped back into darkened area of Jim room and crossed to the bed. The only movement in the room the quick flick of Nemo A534's ears and stuttering rise and fall of Jim's torso under the comforter and quilt.

Spock stood over the blonde for a long moment, considering if he should risk rousing the human with touch, testing the limits of his own acceptance in Jim's circle of elite.

"Jim." Spock said aloud, keeping his hands firmly twined around the mugs. The blonde was still.

"Jim." Spock lifted the volume of his voice, hardening it to an authoritative tone and moved closer. Jim jerked a little, eyes snapping open and the blue focusing for a split second. Jim was halfway pushing himself up.

"What's wrong?" He sharp, hard edged tone was clear. Jim's mind had tricked him back into his bunk aboard the _Enterprise_. He believed that Spock had come to him as a First Officer. Spock squatted down onto his heels, setting the two mugs down and quickly set his hand onto Jim's shoulder. Feeling the heat of the fever flushing through the fabric and the jerk of muscle as Jim flinched from his touch.

"Jim." Spock said quietly. "There is nothing amiss. You are the ranch. Remember? You are ill."

The blonde looked at him for a long moment and Spock was startled to see the color of his eyes had darkened to near navy. The contrast harsh and unsettling. Slowly the navy color faded, bleeding back into the smooth pools of cerulean. After another moment the color drained again back into the glassy pale blue that was near white as the strain of sickness settled back into him.

Jim made a soft groan and twisted away from him, effectively rolling over to bury his face into the thick ruff of fur at Nemo A534's neck, Spock's hand slid from his shoulder and settled into the sheets and mattress where Jim had been lying. The fabric was damp, near soaked with sweat. The vicious liquid slid over the sensitive pads of his fingers and made Spock's skin itch.

"That wasn't funny." He slurred quietly.

"I had no intention of deceiving or making a mockery of you." Spock protested quietly.

"Hmm." Jim rasped.

"Jim. I roused you with the intention of you drinking something. The drink's holisitic properties would be most beneficial to your recovery as well as replenish the liquids you are losing with profuse sweating."

"Hmm."

Spock blew out a soft breath that might have been a sigh. "Jim. Please."

The next 'hmm' sounded more like a sigh of both appeasement and defeat. Jim stiffly and roughly pushed himself back up and twisted around, eyes still half lidded and so glazed Spock was almost certain he couldn't see. The blonde reached out blindly and Spock retrieved the tea from the floor and held it steady until Jim had haphazardly wrapped his hand around it. The blonde drew the mug towards him and sniffed the liquid, nose wrinkling.

"Tea."

"I mixed the drink." Spock assured.

Jim hummed quietly and tipped the mug to his lips and swallowed several large mouthfuls without stopping. He choked and sputtered slightly as he came up for air. Coughing wetly and easing down onto his belly and propping himself up on his elbows as he breathed. The air passing thick and heavy through his sinuses. He gripped the mug in both hands and bowed his head between his forearms and panted just slightly. His ribs expanding and contracting far more than they did normally.

After the long pause, eyes slit shut, Jim tipped the mug back. In a few long swallows and the bob of his Adam's apple he sluiced the rest of the tea down. He absently pushed the mug back towards Spock. The blonde stayed still for a while, braced up on his elbows and forearms, head hung and the wisps of his honey colored hair darkened and slicked down to his skull with his own bodily fluids. The wings of his shoulder blades were hunched and made his frame look far to thin along his spine, his neck arched and corded and flushed pink. Steam seemed to rise off his skin and he sniffed so heavily that Spock could almost see the congestion moving through his nasal passages and sinuses.

"Humans are quiet disgusting when they are severely ill." Spock declared honestly.

The effect was not one he had aimed for specifically but it caused a small warmth to settle low in Spock's core.

Jim smiled and let out a gasping, cracked laugh. It hiccuped through his chest for a moment before it faded, the smile slipping from his lips.

"Just wait... if my stomach keeps up the summersaults you'll get front row seats to the greatest grossities on earth."

Jim didn't elaborate but eased down flat onto his chest and sank is face into the pillow, his back continued to rise and fall in it's hitching, unnatural rhythm. Spock considered him for a moment before rising slowly. Though his face was pressed into the pillow Jim seemed to sense his movement.

"You leaving?"

Spock cocked his head slightly at the soft whine in the blonde's voice.

"I shall return momentarily." Spock assured.

"Alright... while you're up, will you feed Miles and Miles, please." Jim made a slight motion towards the chair in the corner of him room. Spock followed the movement, eyebrow tilted up before looking back at him.

"Miles and Miles?"

"My fish... " Jim's words slurred. "Two pinches."

Spock's brow furrowed and strode over to the circular glass jar, in the dim light two small, black shapes flickered and swam slowly through the dark water. A small, brightly colored plastic container sat next to the jar on the table top. Spock tilted it until it caught the light and illuminated the letters 'fish food'.

He lifted the container, unscrewed the lid and pinched a few flakes out and dropped them into the bowl. He repeated the process and watched for a few minutes as Miles and Miles swam up and nipped the food right off the surface.

Spock watched them and half listened until he was sure that Jim had reached a state of semi-sleep before carefully slipping out of the room and making way down to Cody's room.

The hybrid stepped through the healthy amount of disarray to the desk set under the windows. The surface still heaped high with books and loose paperwork around the personal computer. The log books were shuffled from the last time that Spock had seen them and the markers in the books concerning the _Winchester Gospel_ had moved, a new text had been placed on top of the stack. The thick text was bound in heavy, slightly frayed canvas and lacked any kind of title or distinctive lettering, but it looked far older than any other text in Cody's or Jim's collections. Spock carefully lifted the cover open and leafed gently through the heavy parchment paper that felt as if it had been hand made. He came to a page that had a simple inscription in the center of the page but Spock was unable to read it as the lettering was done in a heavy ink, hand written but in some form or symbol sequence instead of words. The glyphs were odd and archaic and Spock felt a twinge of pain in his temple as he tried to read it. The hybrid turned the next page and found it filled almost completely in the same neat, small handwriting in the same symbol series.

Spock narrowed his eyes for a moment before carefully closing the cover and looking over the disarray and noticed a thick bound book with the title _Geronimo:A Biography_ printed on the spine. Spock carefully extracted the text, keeping from disrupting any of the rest of the paperwork and tucked the book under his arm. Spock exited quickly and retreated quietly to Jim's room and started across to the chair in the corner next to Miles and Miles' bowl.

"Hey." Jim rasped, his voice muffled by the pillow. He swallowed heavily and noise sounded dry and thick.

"Hey, Spock."

"Yes Jim?" the hybrid paused in his cross to the chair.

"Will you sit with me?" The blonde pleaded quietly.

Spock thought back to Cody's warning to simply appease any demands Jim made.

"I intended to Jim." Spock started for the chair again.

"Over here... too cold over there... got all the covers. And Nemo." Jim made a titanic effort and shifted his entire frame over onto the very outer edge of his mattress before settling again. Nemo A534 pushed himself up to his paws and stepped over the new gap and stretched back out against Jim's back again. The dog twisted and looked back at Spock with ears cocked forward.

The hybrid hesitated for a moment before resolving himself and moving carefully over to the foot of the bed. He paused before carefully climbing up into the open gap of the mattress between the window and Nemo A534. As he moved the dog's tail thumped softly against the quilt and comforter. Spock tried not to jostle Jim with the shift and twist of his own frame as he carefully settled into place, pushing a pillow into the small of his back as he settled sitting up against the heavy wooden headboard of the bed and braced his side against the thick glass of the row of windows.

He shivered slightly at the press of the cold glass as it sank through the heavy fabric of his hooded sweatshirt and tee shirt and made his skin crawl for a few long second before his own body heat started to warm the glass. Spock neatly folded his legs into a half lotus position, one knee pressing into the window and the other into the side of Nemo A534's shoulder. The dog's body the only barrier between himself and Jim.

Once Spock had gone still, comfortable in his position,Jim let out a long, contended sigh that was interrupted by a string of sharp, wet coughs tearing through his chest before slumping down into the mattress.

Feeling another slight shiver at being pressed into the cold glass Spock boldly reached down and tugged part of Colt's quilt up into his lap and without pulling too much from Jim tucked it around as an insulator between himself and the glass.

The hybrid paused, lightly passing his palm over the stitches and impressed shape of a horse in the pattern, remembering the ache and sharp bite of shared loss and grief of a child he'd only seen in another's memories and photographs.

Spock toyed absently with a loose thread before pulling himself to the book, unfolding it in his lap and pausing when a small square fluttered out onto the quilt.

Spock head cocked and he lifted the object and tilted it into the light to better see.

It was a small color photograph, four by four inches and in the image was an unmistakeable picture of Jim at least a decade younger than he was at present. The teenager grinned, blue eyes bright with his hand wrapped around the leather reins and bridle buckled around the head of a slender framed but massive horse. The animal was sleek and slim, all sinewy muscle and large bright eyes and small ears. The coat a dark dappled gray with dark legs and tail. Spock skirt his thumb across the surface of the photograph before turning it over and in the neat, small handwriting he knew to be Cody's were the words _Jim and Geronimo's last day together; August 2250_.

This was the off the track racehorse that Cody had mentioned would jump fences.

"Jim."

The blonde grunted quietly, not entirely asleep yet, and 'hmm'ed at the hybrid.

"Cody advised me that left alone you had a tendency to 'pull a Geronimo'." Spock said quietly.

A raspy, huffed laugh was muffled into Jim's pillow. "The escapee... I had a horse named that once..."

"I am aware." Spock reached over and held out the photograph in what he hoped was Jim's eyeline. There was a pause.

"Hey!" Jim managed to sound slightly enthusiastic as he reached out and took the picture from Spock's finger tips. He 'hmm'ed quietly, the noise slightly happy this time. "I really liked him... he was just too much horse for me then."

Jim stretched his arm around and held the photograph towards the hybrid. Once Spock had placed the glossy square back into the cover of the book and Jim's arm had gone slack across his shoulder.

"Jim."

"Hmm."

"I am aware that you are in need of significant rest in order to recover but I hope that you will allow me another moment."

"Anything you want Spock." Jim murmured.

Spock nodded though he knew that Jim could not see.

"I am in need of a translation. I was addressed as 'Cahapi' approximately seventeen minutes ago."

"Sugar."

"Pardon?"

"Cahapi. It means 'sugar'. Who call you that? Cody?" Jim spoke more into his pillow than to the hybrid on the other side of the bed.

"Cokata."

Jim made a noise forceful enough that his torso bounced on the mattress. "That's not good. They better not name you that..."

Spock cocked his head and looked down at the back of Jim's head but asked for no more of the young man's attention. Spock listened to the blonde until his respiration returned to the shallow broken wheezes and rasps of Jim forcing his breath through his congested chest and blocked sinuses.

Spock still felt the pang of being utterly useless in alleviating Jim's symptoms and pain but at least now he did not rob the blonde of the comfort of his own bed. The small change soothed the hybrid a bit, eased a tension in the hollow of his chest and calmed his core. A few moments crept by and soon Spock's senses were flooded again with the fever deepened coil of Jim's scent. His nose twitched and wrinkled slightly but what little of his inner turmoil washed away with the invasion of the aroma.

Spock turned to the text in his lap and focused the majority of his attention on the words laid out in ink on paper and the rest on listening to Jim's breathing for distress.

It was several hours and the dulled light of day had flooded through the rain slick windows before he was drawn back into the present as the door opened and McCoy slipped in. His clothes had not changed but he looked clean shaven and had replaced bare feet with a set of heavy work boots. There was a bottle of water in one hand. Spock lifted his head, instinctively laying his fingers into place on the page to focus on the medical officer.

McCoy stopped when he noticed Spock's position on the inner side of the mattress. The older man narrowed his eyes, sighed something under his breath that, again, was not Standard before closing the distance and laying the tips of his fingers lightly on the side of Jim's throat. In his stupor and fevered sleep the blonde twitched and swallowed but did no more.

"How's he been?" Mccoy asked without looking at the hybrid and instead reached to stroke Nemo A534's ears.

"Shortly after Cody, Cikala, Casper and Creek departed for the mountain Jim was able to ingested a large mug of herbal tea." Spock indicated Jim's empty mug on the sill next to his own. "He remained semi-alert for approximately twelve minutes before submitting to sleep. His breathing has been difficult but remained consistent."

McCoy quirked an eyebrow at him and Spock had the distinct feeling that the medical officer knew that Spock had been selective in his narrative. His mossy green eyes turned hard and sharp. "How was he when he woke up?"

A muscle in Spock's jaw twitched. "When roused Jim believed that he was on board the _Enterprise_ and that I had come to collect him to address some emergency."

McCoy nodded, satisfied. "That's not to bad. He was coherent afterwards?"

"Yes."

"Yeah that's not to bad. Fevers and dreams can do that to a body. Jim." Mccoy nudged the blonde's shoulder his his knuckles and the blonde jerked with a groan.

"Bones... what..." He muttered.

"Drink this." McCoy held the bottle of water in his face, displaying the same gruff and firm non-existent bedside manner he displayed in the sickbay.

Jim looked at it before, muttering, giving the bottle a sloppy shove and turned his face back into the pillow.

McCoy rolled his eyes. "Jim-"

"No."

"Jim it's this or saline."

The blonde shoved himself up onto his forearm and elbows and glared up at the doctor through mucky and clouded eyes.

"You'd do it too..." Jim snapped and jerked the bottle from McCoy's hand and nearly tore the cap off before chugging it back and like the tea choked and sputtered before coughing.

McCoy sighed audibly.

"What time is it?"

"Jim-" Spock said and the blonde half turned to look at him. "It is approximately twenty four minutes and twenty six seconds passed the seventh hour in the morning."

Jim's brow furrowed.

"It's seven thirty and those kids just got wind yer sick."

"Oh no." Jim groaned and buried his face into his pillow and whined quietly.

"Oh yes. We're goin' into Darby, we'll be back this afternoon. Spock-"

The hybrid's head snapped up.

"Keep the fluids goin'. I'm sure the twin's be more than happy to make runs into the kitchen and back for ya if ya feel disinclined to get up."

Spock narrowed his eyes slightly at the doctor.

"And kick the babies out when they get too ornery. Got it?"

"Understood."

"Drink it all Jim." McCoy threatened without much more than that to his sentence before reaching out and giving a light tug to Nemo A534's leather collar. "C'mon Nemo. Ya need to go outside for a bit."

The dog resisted for a moment before with a soft whine pushed himself up and awkwardly leapt over Jim's back and his the floor hard. McCoy linked his fingers around the collar and gave a gentle tug for the dog to follow him out the door. The one eyed German Shepherd clearly reluctant to go on his own.

"Don't get handsy. And I want my laptop!" Jim called roughly after McCoy, earning a curse from just beyond the door. Jim turned his attention back to the bottle of water and drank it slowly until it was nearly gone. Spock watched from the corner of his eye to ensure the task was done.

Jim started to ease back down on his belly when the door swung open again and he two Starfleet officers looked up to see the resolute and harsh form standing framed in the doorway.

For a moment, even to Spock, Toweya Chicalato, all of eight years old with her large goldfish in his bowl tucked under one arm and Jim's laptop under the other, looked somewhat frightening.

The child narrowed her eyes, dressed in jeans and red socks that matched a red tee shirt depicting the image of two favorite child's television character, Ernest the Donkey and Twist the Horse. At the edge of the door the twins, Maza and Magazu and the older Anear hybrid Suri peeked around the corner.

Jim swallowed.

"Yer sick Uncle Jim." She stated almost harshly.

Jim turned his face into his pillow and sighed inaudibly before twisting back to look at Toweya.

"Yes ma'am, I am." He rasped and twisted around to set most of his weight on his hip.

"Ya awful sick? Ya got the Spock sittin' with ya-"

"Toweya. His name is 'Spock'. Not 'the Spock'." Jim said with pure finality.

The eight year old girl huffed.

"Uncle JimJimmyJim, are ya alright?" One of the twins, dressed in pale blue, Maza asked and clutched her stuffed pony to her chest.

Jim managed a weak smile. "I'll be alright. it just caught me before I could out run it."

"Can we come in and visit?" Suri asked politely, looking hopefully at Spock as well as Jim through his fine glasses and brushing his black hair away from pale blue brow. He hugged a thick, canvas bound book to his narrow chest.

"If I say 'no' are you going to leave?"

All four younglings shook their heads firmly.

"Then 'yes'."

It was a mad scramble. In a matter of seconds the population of Jim's large bed went from two to six, not including the fat goldfish in his bowl and stuffed animals. Jim grunted loudly and rasped wetly when he was tackled and quickly overwhelmed by the chattering younglings. For a moment Spock was trapped in confusion before Jim let out a self stifled yelp when The twin dressed in pale yellow, Magazu, accidently shoved her knee into his ribs.

"Enough." Spock said calmly and firmly, in the way he addressed ensigns arguing over experiments or data in his labs. "Be still.'

The four pups froze and stared at him in shock. In the moment Jim breathed out and relaxed a little.

"He is ill. If you wish to stay and accompany him it will only be permitted if you calm yourselves and cease over action." Spock's eyebrows tilted down and his eyes hardened in the way that Spock remembered his professors and tutors of his childhood would.

The four looked slightly unsettled but quickly curled themselves up in open space across the mattress. Suri tucked himself in against the window and next to Spock's knee. Toweya next to him and half lying on top of Jim's legs the twins curled around each other. The fat goldfish went onto the ledge of the window. They continued to focus in on Spock's unwavering and scrutinizing gaze.

"Way to crack the whip, Spock." Jim muttered and carefully rolled over to face the rest of the group. He slumped back down into his pillow and his eyes went half lidded before blindly reach for and finding his laptop. He pulled it to him, booted it up and skimmed through his systems before finding a music program packed to the smallest byte with up or downloaded music. Jim started a playlist and the low rolling and soothing tones and notes of old country and blues music hummed out of the speakers.

Jim twisted around and lowered the laptop out of sight and down to the floor where the churn of music drifted up to them in a steady background with the rain.

The hybrid refrained from speaking but carefully tucked the photograph of Jim and Geronimo into his last read page and shut the book.

"Are you alright?"

Jim shrugged one shoulder.

"Yer really warm, Uncle JimJimmyJim." Magazu said quietly and stroked the fur of her plush horse. While the color differed Spock was reminded of the plush animal that Cody had forced on Jim. The Vulcan hybrid's eyes scanned the rumpled quilt and comforter before spotting an odd shaped lump near Jim's hip that Spock assumed was the stuffed buckskin horse.

"I got a fever, baby." Jim lifted his head to look down at the twins for a moment before letting it fall back.

"Do you feel okay?" Suri asked. Spock narrowed his eyes at the illogic of the question.

"Nope."

Suri fidgeted slightly, his hands skating over the black and red canvas book covering. It lacked any embossed or leafed lettering on the spine or covering.

"I got a new book." The Anear hybrid said quietly, looking shyly out at them from behind his lashes and glasses.

"Go on then." Jim hummed with twitched lips in a slightly encouraging smile.

"Yeah." The twin chorused.

Suri looked to Spock who nodded slightly, agreeing whole heartedly with the low impact activity.

"Don't forget to show the pictures." Toweya sighed and shifted down until she was flat on her back with her legs draped over the lump in the comforter and quilt that was one of Jim's thighs. She tapped her bare ankles together.

Suri puffed slightly and nodded before opening the book on his lap to the first page. "_The Sword in The Stone_. Written by T. H. White. Illustrations by Dennis Nolan."

He turned the pages quietly to the first one filled with printed lettering. Suir sat up confidently and started to read aloud.

"_On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays it was Court Hand and Summulae Logicales, while the rest of the week it was the Organon, Repetition and Astrology. The governess was always getting muddled with her astrolabe, and when she got especially muddled she would take it out of the Wart by rapping his knuckles..._"

Spock lifted an eyebrow at the strange, winding script and turned his full attention to the story and listening to Suri relate it.

By the third chapter Spock was enthralled by the imaginary, completely illogical world based on the human era of the middle ages. He listening intently, only intervening in Suri's narrative when Nemo A534 bounded back into the room and settled himself back into the narrow space between Spock and Jim or to send one of the twins for something for Jim to drink. More often than not Jim had to be roused from sleep to finish the drinks before he dozed off again in the middle of the next chapter.

All the while the light chatter of rain against the glass mingled with the sound of Jim's rough breathing and the soothing music still rising from the laptop on the floor.

It was scent that lifted his attention from their small circle and he looked up to the sight of Cody, hair slightly dampened and pulled back into a pony tail, stepping quietly into the room with two large ceramic mugs. Close on her heels was McCoy, his own hair slicked down and across his chest and slung over a shoulder was a large canvas and nylon Emergency Medical Technician styled bag of black and grayish green.

Cody whistled and the four younglings and Jim jumped visibly.

They all twisted around and looked towards Cody.

'Chow' the petite rancher mouthed and with a small whoop the four children leapt off the bed, stumbled over one another and shoved between Cody and McCoy's hips and thundered down stairs.

McCoy growled and Cody grinned good naturedly at him before crossing towards Spock and Jim and offered the two steaming mugs. Spock sniffed gently and felt his stomach roll.

Each were filled with a thick cream soup. One bobbed with diced chunks of Cody's hand made bread. Jim shifted himself up and excepted one and Spock took the other, glancing around for a utensil before watching Jim tilt the mug back and swallow a small mouthful.

Spock hesitated, considering if he should proceed by thought logically that if it was acceptable in Vulcan culture to drink directly from a mug or glass that the contents should not make a difference to the action and followed suit, drinking his soup and pausing to chew the chunks of soggy bread.

Cody perched herself on the end of the bed and McCoy stood behind her, arms crossed over his chest and watching warily as Jim ate.

"How is he?" The question clearly directed at Spock.

Jim huffed and frowned. "I'm right here. I'm coherent."

McCoy snorted at him.

"Jim has engaged in a great deal of rest and drink, has performed hygenic tasks without aid and remained coherent." Spock relayed. "The majority of the day has been occupied by Suri reading a book aloud."

Cody's lips quirked and Jim grumbled and scowled down into his soup.

McCoy crossed and making sure that Jim saw him coming laid the back of his hand against Jim's throat as he swallowed, then skated his fingers across Jim's brow.

"Feels like yer fever dropped a bit."

"Awesome." Jim muttered, sensing McCoy's intent and started to hurry through his soup. "How was the depo?"

_**Cokata's got that southern lawyer flustered already. Course Cokata is a shark.**_

"Hell yeah he is." Jim muttered.

"A shark?" Spock cocked his head and lifted an eyebrow.

"It's a term for a lawyer that'll pretty much eat ya alive in court. Vicious." McCoy muttered and unzipped the main compartment of the medical kit. "Ya don't mess with 'em."

"Cokata does not seem to obtain a particularly hostile nature." Spock retorted before taking a small swallow of his soup, catching another chunk of soaked bread.

"It's a ploy." Jim mutter around the lip of his mug. "He gets scary when he gets in front of a judge... looks like Rhado filled you out."

_**The kit was easy, it was getting out of there that was hard. Doc Rhado's got a crush on Len.**_

"Miss Cody." McCoy growled.

_**Its true. He and Stephen want Len to join them in extra curricular activities.**_

Jim choked and gaged slightly on his soup. "Okay. Now I'm queasy."

McCoy was flushed and roughly drawing medication from glass vials into a hypospray, resolute in ignoring everyone in the room.

"They wish to engage Doctor McCoy in sexual congress simultaneously?" Spock inquired and McCoy made a noise that may have been a curse or a snarl or a bastardization of them both and Cody was grinning madly at teasing the medical officer.

_**Len. I'm sure they're only after your body.**_

The flush across McCoy's face paled and he swallowed heavily.

"Seems reasonable to me." Jim hummed tilting back the last of his soup and reching across to put the empty much on the window sill with the assortment of empty glasses, mugs and the fat tri-colored goldfish in his bowl. "It can't be your people skills."

The hypospray must have hit a nerve directly the way Jim lurched and let out a broken yelp and Spock wondered if the ferocity of the attack had been deliberate due to McCoy's intimacy with human anatomy or if it was a happy accident.

His face flushed and teeth nearly bared, McCoy snarled into Jim's face. "That'll flush ya through, ya'll be back to yer Hell raisin' in the mornin'."

He turned sharply on his heel and stalked away. Cody swiftly got up and followed, lightly linking her arm with McCoy's and as they slipped out of the door McCoy's shoulders relaxed marginally.

Spock cocked his head. "Perhaps it would be wise to refrain from patronizing Doctor McCoy when he is within striking distance."

Spock turned and let out a silent sigh at the sight of Jim slumped down onto his pillow and against Nemo A534, rasping, congested breath wheezing and rattling from his chest as he slept the sleep of the sedated.

* * *

**A/N: I kept getting distracted by the bunnies and mini plot ideas of further one shots in the NS Series. I got a couple working the same time I was working on this chapter. **

**And of course the escapades of Geronimo the ex-racehorse was a miniature vent about the similar Steve McQueen like exploits of my pain gelding Voodoo. He's so sweet natured and getting more and more casual about everything but his one extremely bad habit is escaping... and he will find ANY way to get out... and then does... bless him...**

**Anyway...**

**Titles:**

_**"Geronimo: A Biography" **_**is written by Mary Stout, publish 2009 and I have not read it. SO I cannot in good mind and faith recommend it. But there are LOTS of books about Geronimo and even more random research out there about him. Check him and the other Native resistance fighters of that era out. They were AMAZING.**

_**"The Sword in The Stone"**_** written by T.H. White, first published in 1938 is EXCELLENT and NOTHING like the Disney movie. Way more amazing things happen to the Wart, like he meets and hangs out with Robin Hood and there are the knight duties and training with Merlin and talking animals and Madam Mim and freaky creatures and insane knight eternally hunting imaginary animals and King Pellinore and falconry and ALOT of other things. I highly recommend it. **

**Lakota Translation:**

**Cahapi - Sugar (and I promise this is not the name Spock will be given by the Brotherhood)**

**Hope ya'll enjoyed. **

**Much Love**

**Mary**


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary:** _**Their misadventures often interrupted by quicksand and evil soldiers made of rock or fire and occasionally a giant panda wearing a bow tie that demanded sacrifices of strawberries or solving complex riddles that evidently were difficult even for this imaginary Spock.**_

* * *

**Lost Horse Creek, Montana**

"**When you are lonely, let me be your companion. When you are tired, let me carry the load. When you need to learn, let me teach you… after all, I am your horse."**

**-Unknown**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: Holding Court**

"**_In the courtroom of the conscience, a case is always in progress.__"_**

**-Dutch Proverb**

* * *

_**Native Sky Ranch**_

_**124 Flathead Road,**_

_**Lost Horse Creek, Bitterroot Mountain Range, Rocky Mountains, Ravalli County, Montana**_

_**Stardate: 2260**_

_**October 23**_

_**0**__**621 Hours**_

…

"Ya want to slow down?"

Jim choked slightly at the words and sluiced some coffee down his throat to soften whatever was lodged in his throat at the moment. Spock quirked an eyebrow and watched the sizable lump bob down Jim's neck before fading passed his collar bone.

For a second Jim sat panting then roughly tore into his bagel again.

"Hoksilato." Cokata sighed as he buttoned the last button into place at his collar.

"What?" Jim said passed his mouthful. "'M hungry."

"Ya act like ya haven't eaten in a month instead of a day." Casper smirked and straightened his own pale orange button down shirt, tucking it into his new denim jeans before tightening his belt.

Jim swallowed heavily again. "Why are you guys always on my back about my eating habits?"

"'Cause they ain't eatin' habits. It's gorgin'." Cikala ruffled Jim's hair as he walked behind the blonde. Jim made a swing for the narcotics officer before grumpily smoothing his hair back down and turning back to his over large omelet.

It seemed to Spock that the Brotherhood had very little leeway on the subject as they themselves were quickly eating equally large breakfasts while they tried to smooth down their crisp, brightly colored dress shirts and show jeans, squeezing their way into oiled rodeo cowboy boots and smoothing their hair. Arching their backs to avoid any drips of coffee and chewing breath mints.

The table was cluttered with the Chicalato blood line. The Pups and wives were crowded around their fathers and uncles chattering wildly. Cody was gently but firmly corralling all of them, making sure there were plates and food in front of everyone and redirecting most of the chaotic attention on herself, fielding questions and denying requests like easily.

Among the chaos there was only one still point.

McCoy was sitting at the end of the table, hunched forward and looking fairly ill. His skin was pale and the shadows under his eyes told of a night lacking sleep. His mossy eyes were unfocused and he fidgeted with the hem or sleeve of his blue green shirt and refusing food or coffee. The stress was evident on the man's face and Spock found it strange that he should look so miserable and ill when he was going to make a fight to claim his only offspring.

Jim had warned him to shy away from McCoy until the hearing was over and shared with him the wisdom that McCoy was going to be in a severe amount of distress and likely to me more aggressive than normal. Spock had doubted that the doctor would allow his professionalism to slip so severely but one look at the unsteady man had confirmed Jim's predictions and, as a show of respect, had refrained from speaking to the older human.

It seemed that the other adults of the family had done the same and shied from speaking to him but it did not stop the Pups, who had caught wind of the whole ordeal concerning McCoy's daughter, from trying to interrogate the doctor.

And that was where Cody inserted herself, effectively buffering McCoy from the brunt of their onslaught.

On more than one occasion Spock noticed Cody went out of her way to make physical contact with McCoy. Setting her hand on his shoulder or forearm, skate her fingers across the back of his neck or hand occasionally and for the fraction of time that Cody offer this silent, physical support McCoy would relax marginally before going taut and crumbling in on himself again.

What little emotion bled through McCoy's daze was focused on Cody and somberly grateful and the rest of the Brotherhood and family seemed beyond his reach.

The morning chores had been rushed, the brothers splitting the work with Cody, Jim and Spock to get through everything in half the time to make way for showers and over large breakfasts and shouting at one another and their family to get through the tension of the morning.

They had all advised Spock to over eat. Unlike the Brotherhood, Spock had never been to a conduction of a true court. As police officers and counselors, experts in their fields and confessors to a somewhat rough adolescent era they had frequented municipal proceedings of both civil and criminal kinds. They knew how what should have only been a few hours spent could turn into a judicial filibuster with ridiculous ease. It was very likely that they would be spending the entire day in the courts and be eating out of cheap replicators or vending machines, sitting in uncomfortable chairs or standing.

The probability of the event conforming to the Brotherhood's 'horror stories' as Casper's wife Marie called then, grew exponentially due to the fact that Jocelyn Dauphin was involved... the 'mean piece of work' that she was.

For what little confidence McCoy seemed to have Cokata was dripping with it. There was a hard edge to the counselor's chocolate eyes, a smirk at his lips and his tone was clipped and authoritative.

Spock proceeded to slowly drink his tea and eat his vegan omelet at a gradual pace, while the rest of the kitchen rushed around them.

Cody crossed over and made a sharp movement at Jim and the blonde immediately rose to his feet and lifting a cerulean blue dress shirt and pulled it on over his light white tee shirt. In rapid succession Cody tugged the hems together and buttoned it all the way down while Jim awkwardly drank his coffee over her head. Once Cody had finished his shirt she made the same motion to Spock.

The hybrid hesitated, wondering if he should protest, that logic stated that he could button his own shirt.

In the moment of his hesitation Cody made a second sharp command for his to rise and Jim quirked a honey colored eyebrow at him. Spock pushed himself up and lifted the dark green dress shirt from the back of the chair.

While they had been in town the day before Cody, Cokata and McCoy had raided a small garment shop in Darby and purchased a dress shirt for each of the Brotherhood and Spock himself, each with a color corresponding to the colors of their medicine wheel charms.

Casper in a pale orange was the brightest in the wheel, the rest were more muted in color save for Jim's bright blue and McCoy's blue green. Cikala in sleek black, Creek in tawny brown and Cokata in purple. Cody's fitted blouse was blood red but looked a similar cut to the male's dress shirts. Each were in dark show jeans, the kind that were often packed away and saved until they were brought out for participating in the ring in horse shows and rodeos. Their etched leather boots, dyed to their colors, were possibly more expensive than the jeans and shirts together.

Each of the Brotherhood sported their medicine wheel chokers and some kind of simple bracelet, Jim and Cody sporting the Australian ones Creek had gifted them.

As Cody buttoned his shirt Spock became suddenly aware of the actual length of his neck and finer skeletal structure of his wrist compared to the thicker and more muscular ones of the Chicalato brothers. He fidgeted, just slightly and stretched his hand to skate his touch across the pearled ring of scar tissue on his wrist, his only adornment beyond the jade shirt.

_**Jim, go get my wolf bone box.**_

The blonde quickly retreated out of the kitchen and could be heard jogging up the stairs and around the second floor. Spock watched him retreat, feeling the last dredges of tension flooding away at seeing the recovered energy and strength after his short stint of illness.

A few moments later Jim reemerged with a small pale box that looked to be made of carved bone, the small image of a wolf on the top. Cody thanked him and opened the box, threading through the contents with the soft sounds of metal and bone meeting glass and wood.

After a few moments Cody extracted a wide choker made of entirely black beads of jet stone. She set the wolf bone box aside and motioned for Spock to bend slightly. She reached around and easily locked the choker into place at the base of his throat. It fit snugly against his skin.

As Spock straightened Cody reached back into the box and pulled free a beaded bracelet matching the jet choker and deftly linked it around his wrist without touching his skin.

The weight at his throat and arm felt comfortable and quickly warmed to his body temperature.

_**There. Now you look like you're with us. Those are old, don't lose them.**_

Spock dipped his head and settled his hands into the small of his back, his fingers rubbing across the warming stone beads around his opposing forearm.

Cody nodded then clapped her hands once, effectively silencing the room and making McCoy jump.

_**Finish up. We're out in five.**_

The command caused a new flurry of movement and chaos, a new pitch of whining and a new string of cursing. Jim ducked around everyone and snaked his suede and fleece and Spock's corduroy jackets from the mud room. He handed the hybrid his garment and jerked his head towards the door. Spock followed dutifully pulling on his coat.

"So, ready to do your thing when Cokata calls you up?"

"Am I expected to perform duties beyond those of a character witness?"

"Nope. Just making sure." Jim fidgeted.

Spock tilted and eyebrow up.

"You are nervous."

"Yup." Jim agreed truthfully, threading his fingers through his hair and tugging at it marginally. He twisted around at the sound of footsteps approaching. Spock twisted slightly to see Cody gently steering a slightly paler McCoy towards the door. She was signing slow, calm encouragement to him.

McCoy nodded slightly at each sign and Cody gently nudged him towards Jim.

_**Keep an eye on him.**_

"Sure thing Cody." Jim agree before he grabbed a hold of McCoy's coat sleeve and tugged the doctor out onto the porch. Spock followed.

The world beyond the covered wraparound porch was water logged, sheets of cold rain still falling heavily and flooding the yard and drive. The air was cold and when Spock breathed out the hybrid stepped back a bit at the cloud of vapor that rose from his lips.

"Okay, enough with the weird catatonic act, Bones." Jim gave the older man a gentle shake.

"I must be insane, Jim. Tryin' this with Jocelyn." McCoy rasped.

"Bones, relax. This is already tied up. You're not asking for custody, which _I_ think you should, just a few months worth of play time. A reasonable judge, especially one that's a father, isn't going to deny you that. Okay?"

McCoy nodded jerky and wrung his hands.

"You just gotta calm dow- no you know what, freak out. Right now, just keep freaking out. Get it out of your system and everything." Jim gave the doctor a gentle shove.

"Jim. Stop."

The blonde's lips quirked and he shoved McCoy again, a little rougher than before. "No."

McCoy growled. "Jim-"

"Bones."

Jim nudged McCoy a third time, making the older man stumble back a bit. Before he could regain his balance Jim thudded his hip into the doctor's side and effectively knocked the older man back into the door.

McCoy snarled and lunged at Jim, the blonde ducked and danced easily out of the way before bolting down the length of the porch and dashing around the corner.

A muffled noise of rage escaped the medical officer and he was after Jim in a shot, stumbling hard around the corner and racing after the blonde.

Spock cocked his head slightly, listening to the sound of boots hitting the hardwood and cursing mingling with taunts. The hybrid's attention turned as the door opened and the rest of the Brotherhood marched out, Cokata cradled up in Casper's arms while Creek was holding the folded wheelchair.

Cody's eyebrow rose and she looked passed Spock towards the Durango then narrowed her eyes.

_**Where are they?**_

"Jim has taken it upon himself to relieve Doctor McCoy of his tension." Spock reported calmly.

"How?" Casper rumbled and shifted Cokata's weight higher on his chest.

"I believe the method of choice was antagonization." Spock looked back towards the corner where the pair had disappeared.

"Hoksilato utilized Caniwahu's momentarily suppressed anger and resentment in addition to the tension resulting from the stress of possible failure in order to goad him into an altercation with the sole purpose of relieving that stress. Correct?" Creek asked.

"Indeed." Spock dipped his head,

Cikala sighed. "So that was geek-speak for 'Hoksilato picked a fight'."

"Crudely put but correct." Creek agreed.

Cikala muttered under his breath and they turned their attention to their backs as Jim sprinted around the far corner and skidded around them to duck behind Spock, his face slightly flushed and split into a grin. Puffing slightly and snarling McCoy stalked up, fists clenched and teeth grit.

"Jim-"

"Easy Bones." Jim started to back up, a hand dug into Spock's sleeve he tugged the hybrid back with him, keeping his shield against the agitated doctor. "Don't you feel better, you know?"

"Jim. I'm-"

His voice died when Cody lightly gripped his elbow and turned him towards the stairs and tugged the medical officer after her. He glared at Jim over his shoulder but docilely followed, ducking into the rain and loping across the flooded lawn to the Durango.

"Well, that worked out better than I thought it would." Jim straightened his coat and shirt as he stepped out from behind Spock and started for the stairs. The hybrid trailed behind him and ducked his head against the icy rain as it fanned over the top of his skull and started down his neck.

Jim dashed around the front of the SUV, guiding Spock around to the far side and tugged open a door, standing back for Spock to climb in before vaulting up after him.

With a little shuffling and more rain intrusion than any of them would have liked the rest of the Brotherhood crowded into the Durango, snapping at each other and fighting over the music on the radio. McCoy sat hunched slightly in the front passenger seat, his attention half focused on Cody and half on the road but a level of the older man's tension had faded.

In the midst of the argument Cody revved the engine to life, kicked on the four wheel drive and pulled onto the long drive through the Native Sky territory and onto the main road leading into Darby.

The drive was relatively short and seemed like one, had the weather been more agreeable, made with a horse draw buggy or possibly ridden singular.

Spock sat a little straighter in his seat between Jim and Creek while the former half twisted in his seat to talk to Cokata, Casper and Cikala in the third row of seats. Spock turned his attention to the anthropologist and paleontologist at his side.

"Creek-"

"Yes, Spock?"

"You have attended court proceedings previously have you not?"

"I have been summoned to act as an expert witness on multiple occasions as well as have served as a member of the investigation of several homicides as an anthropologist."

"Was the experience especially trying?"

"Not particularly. Of course I was only required to state facts and findings bound entirely by sciences and my own studies. Familial court matters bound to emotion and personal experience do have a tendency to be more harrowing. I have a difficult time in understanding and recognizing the emotions in species and individuals beyond my own family."

Spock tilted and eyebrow into his hairline. "Indeed?"

"Yes. The form of autism I am afflicted with impairs my social performance. Make no mistake, I have empathy and I am able to discern the general emotion of another though it at times can take a level of overreaction and basis of trial and error before I can correctly recognize them. For example, many of my fellow researchers often hold a consistent level of frustration with myself. Though I very seldom realize that their actions are driven by such until such time that the feeling has escalated from frustration into true anger."

"Creek, I confess that on my first arrival to Earth I experienced a very similar phenomenon. Though over time and with exposure I have overcome it. Can you not do the same?"

"Only with true familiarity of an individual. I can easily read my brothers, sister and other close members of our family on due to the fact that I have been observing them for the duration of my life. Caniwahu is exceptionally easy to understand as he is standard to emotional extremes. But most of the human population does now and will continue to elude me."

"Fascinating. Does this not affect the standing of your social status?"

"I am considered brilliant and the head of my fields, high sought after by the youth of the studies. Or perhaps you were insinuating the status of the level and frequency that I partake in sexual congress?"

"I meant no offense, Creek."

"You made none. I assure you, Spock. I am well bedded."

"Okay. Creek." Jim said loudly. "We do not need to hear about your weird... freaky... kinkiness. Not in an enclosed space. Okay stud?"

"'Kinkiness'?" Spock asked.

"I approach sexual gratification in a similar open minded fashion that I approach my studies. I believe that an individual has the ability to collect useful information and new theoretical view for any and all experiences." Creek responded.

"God, ya make it sound like a science, Mniohlateinyan." Cikala shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"I would consider it a science." Creek twisted to look back at him. "Only by trial can one truly be assured of their preferences and pleasures, such as my experience in Borneo-"

"I am not hearing this!" Jim barked. "Please! Just... it's creepy! We don't want to hear about Spain or Belgium, or Syria, Indian, Greenland and we most certainly don't want to hear _anything_ about _anywhere_ in South America? Okay? Please, Creek?"

The scientist cocked his head slightly. "I am finding it most intriguing that you, Hoksilato, protest most significantly in such discussions concerning your personal reputation of sexual exploitation."

"C'mon Mniohlateinyan." Jim sighed. "You know most of that stuff is just rumors."

"Yeah, what was in when we were kids? Two girls and guy?" Cikala taunted. "Nothing passed third base, right?"

Jim spun and took an awkward swing at the narcotics officer. "Shut up."

"Would it not be prudent to assume that his experience has expanded since his induction into Starfleet." Creek assured.

"Sounds right, civilians are keen to hold candles for moonwalkers." Casper smirked.

"This is the most uncomfortable car ride in the history of car rides." Jim muttered and slumped down in his seat, his cheeks colored pink.

"Creek, is this unusual approach and reasoning towards intimate relationships in correlation to your prolonged bachelorhood. I make the assumption and state the inquiry only through observation that you are the only of your siblings that has not married or reproduced. If I have overstepped-"

"It is a fair question, Spock. My continued single life is due to the fact that I have yet to find a mate suited to myself. And oddity considering that I have traveled further and entertained more individuals than all of my siblings have. Perhaps it would be prudent to mimic Hoksilato or Glietahawicate and seek interaction with other species entirely. It could prove both interesting and profitable."

Spock's brow knit and he turned towards Jim. "Other species?"

Jim twitched slightly. "Had a thing going with an Orion at Academy."

"I see." Spock agreed and pulled back from question further as there was a sorrowful edge to Jim's cerulean eyes. Either the relationship had gone awry or something far more drastic had happened.

"Spock. Perhaps you and I-"

"NO!" The three brothers and Jim shouted as one.

Creek blinked in surprised.

"Very well." The scientist settled back into his seat.

"I would have declined a proposition, Creek. Vulcans are strictly monogamous and do not engage in casual affairs."

"Very well." Creek agreed. "Should you decided to indulge in your human heritage-"

"_**NO!**_"

Spock collected himself and looked towards Jim; the blonde was slouched down next to him, trying to cool the flush of his face discretely.

The hybrid turned his attention to where the chaos had given Cody a sufficient amount of noise and distraction to lightly lay her palm on McCoy's knee, her fingers slightly curled into the fabric of his jeans. Both of the medical officer's own hands had settled over hers, dwarfing the rancher's in his own.

Spock stiffened slightly at the sigh and swallowed visibly. The link of the three hands, tight and knotted together in an unbreakable grip, could have been considered obscene or indecent in Vulcan public and society. The touch of hands was meant to be done privately and delicately, passed only between mates or courters. The brush of fingers and palms, knuckles and thumbs to intimate even for the plutonic status of familial relationships. Spock knew that this cultural aspect was not shared by the human race, though it confused him at times as he was familiar enough about anatomy that human hands were extremely sensitive and was heavily neuro-mapped with layers on layers of hypersensitive nerves under thin skin. He knew that in human society that linking hands could range from intimate to plutonic and at times even animosity. Spock had witnessed them all. Once or twice engaged in them, regardless Spock felt voyeur and a slight heat coiling at the delicate, swept points of his ears at the sight of the desperate way that McCoy held onto Cody's hand.

By the color of his knuckles and wrist the man had paled significantly more. The white of his knuckles looked stretched and almost painful; he clung to Cody's hand like a life line. Occasionally McCoy's whole frame shook in a tremor before settling and Spock could hear through all the noise that the older human's breathing had shallowed and tightened so much that it could be called hyperventilation.

Spock was suddenly enlightened by just how frightened the doctor was at facing his estranged wife and daughter.

The hybrid kept a watchful eye on McCoy for the rest of the ride, splitting his attention between the Brotherhood and the crushing grip McCoy refused to yield on Cody's hand.

Cody steered the Durango one handed through the streets of Darby, relatively deserted in the rain, most of the towns people out in the weather were taking refuge on public benches or community chairs set on the interconnected porch boardwalk between business, protected by long covered roofs and each other's company. Spock watched the waterlogged town slip by until Cody pulled up alongside one of the largest buildings in the small town, set far in the corner of its limits.

The City Hall served majorly as a court house and post office, at some point the small jail and police station had grown enough to move into its own building catty corner to its origins. City Hall had a large, sloped lawn and several massive trees rooted deep around artfully heaped boulders. The center of the lawn was occupied by a large, marble based statue of a massive bull elk, his head and antlers arched over his back and jaws open in a silent bellow up to the mountains.

The building was all sleek, old lines. The corners and windows and doorways decorated with carved swirls and curls of scrolling and waves. The dark, natural stone off set by paler molding.

Spock peered up at the City Hall as Cody drove the Durango into a paved parking lot that had at some point been covered with a open air, metal structure in the efforts to make it easier for officials and officers of the court and post to come and go in the rain and deep snow that was promised in the winter seasons of Montana.

At the moment there were very few vehicles parked there, six total. Three old and battered pick-up trucks and one truck that looked to be only a few years old and was just starting to earn it's scratches and scars and amid the trucks was a sleek, grey sedan that looked fairly out of place. There was a slightly mud spattered police unit marked in tawny, brown and white the words _Darby Police Department, To Protect and Serve_ emblazoned on the side with the number 18 on the roof under the rail of lights. There was an officer in brown and black uniform shirt and work jeans and boots buckling his belt and firearm into place from the trunk. He glanced up at them and lifted a hand towards Cody in greeting.

The engine died and McCoy seemed to extract himself from Cody's hand with much effort as the Brotherhood climbed out and into the chill air. Creek trotted around to the hatch to pull out Cokata's wheelchair and slung the counselor's heavy leather satchel over his own shoulder while Casper lifted Cokata physically up against his chest again in a bridal carry. Jim broke away and trotted towards the officer.

"Hey Wallace!' He crowed cheerfully.

"Jimmy. Heard ya were back in town." Wallace grinned and smoothed his dark hair back from his squared face and jaw, dark eyes bright. "Course I wouldn't believe it unless I arrested ya. So as far as I'm concerned yer not real."

"Then maybe it's time for a psyche eval, Wallace." Jim teased back and rocked slightly on his heels. He half twisted and motioned Spock forward. "Wallace, this is Spock. He's one of my officers on the _Enterprise_ up here for a little 'R' and 'R'. Spock, this is Wallace Tate. Darby's finest."

"Nice to meet ya there, Spock. Heard 'bout ya a little bit too." Wallace offered his hand and Spock carefully reached forward to grip wrists with the officer in the way he'd learned from the Chicalato brothers. If it offended Wallace in any way he didn't show it.

"Indeed."

"Wallace what do you mean you 'heard a little about him'?" Jim asked.

"Jimmy, ya caint expect to go walkin' round in broad daylight with a stranger and _not_ get the gossip goin'. They're all a-buzz over at Charlie's and down at the Bear Paw and last time I made a run into Harriet's place all those birds were chirpin'."

"Damn." Jim muttered and scrubbed at his hair.

"They're even hushin' 'bout it in church last Sunday. Yer quiet the topic there Spock." Wallace assured with a grin as he tugged on a jacket embroidered with _POLICE_ on the back.

"I had no intention of causing distress." Spock said stiffly and Wallace waved him off with a small grin.

"Distress, nothin'. Ya made their month, stirrin' 'em up like that. Only thin' keepin' all the hens at bay is Miss Cody's hate for 'em, otherwise ya'd be hard pressed to find time in yer popularity to sleep."

Spock narrowed his eyes slightly and tilted his head. "You are implying that the population of this town would readily seek out my companionship and company were Cody's dislike of the 'hens' not a factor?"

"Why wouldn't they?" Wallace shrugged. "They all are hopin' he'll be makin' an appearance at the Hollows Ball. Ya'd be doin' an old officer a favor and makin' him a champion if I could be the one to pass it on to 'em, Jimmy."

Jim quirked his lips and turned towards Spock. "What do you say, Spock? Want to go to the Annual Darby All Hallows Eve Ball? There's lots of squash and pumpkin pie."

"I assume this is a festivity designed around the controversial Terran holiday commonly known as 'Holloween' when supposedly the world is over run by monsters and spirits of the dead and small children as dressed in costumes and gifted sweets before older youths partake in nocturnal vandalism."

"The very one." Jim agreed.

Spock paused for a moment. "Very well."

"Straight from the horse's mouth Wallace. He'll be there." Jim grinned and the officer smiled back.

"Yer a champion Jim. Ya too Spock. I'll keep 'em in suspense for days. It'll turn their heads."

Jim chuckled quietly. He and Spock's attention snapped around when a sharp whistle cut from Cody through the lot.

"See ya inside Wallace." Jim waved and nudged Spock along to follow in the wake of the Brotherhood. They jogged through the icy rain and dashed up the front steps. Ducking into the lobby and a blast of heat that made Spock shiver slightly. The inside of the building looked much like the outside. Dark stone walls, pale trims and scrolls and waves around doorways and corners. The lobby was large, corners and walls occupied by hard wood benches or chairs and tall plants in pots. Large double doors of wood frames glass led off in different directions and in some places the walls gave way into large, curved stairwells up and down. The floor was tiled in a geometric pattern that curved around a circular front desk that had a few computers and suspended nano-pixel screens. A curvy, dark eyed and haired woman sat behind the desk and shuffled data pads and paperwork. She looked up as Creek stretched out and locked the wheelchair into place ad Casper settled the counselor down into the seat.

Cokata shifted around a little awkwardly before settling and taking his satchel from Creek and setting it into his lap. His hands settled onto the edge of the wheels and easily rolled himself forward.

"Counselor." The woman behind the desk sat up a little.

"Good mornin'. Will ya check everyone off on the docket please? McCoy v. Dauphin." Cokata rolled up to the desk and spun his chair around to the side; the rest of the Brotherhood following closely.

"Alright. I'll need driver's licenses, Counselor."

Spock stiffened as there was a general shuffle as the group dug into pockets and wallets to extract state identifications and licenses. Spock lacked both.

"Here Spock. I noticed you didn't grab it." Jim said quietly and carefully slid Spock's Federation Identification into the hybrid's hand. Spock relaxed slightly and gripped the small rectangle of laminated plastic. He smoothed his thumb over the surface and when asked for it passed it over easily. The woman took a moment longer than she had with any of the Brotherhood but didn't hesitate to log in Spock's presence and passed back the FID. Spock copied Jim and tucked the card into a back pocket as he followed the blonde off a bit from the group.

"I was unprepared." Spock said quietly.

"No big deal Spock." Jim assured. "I've got your back. But if you want you could get a non-driver's license or a state I.D. sometime today. They can do it here."

Spock's eyebrow tilted up. "A Montana State Identification?"

Jim's brow knit. "You never wanted to come back to the ranch?"

Spock blinked at the undertone in Jim's words. They rang hollowly in Jim's throat and chest, echoes of loneliness. Spock could feel the integrity of their bonded friendship start to fray and unravel at the edges. It had become so strong and deeply braided that Spock had forgotten the fragility that it was made of, that it could be consumed and rendered apart as easily as any rope in a flame.

Jim's face was a mask of plaster, harsh and lifeless. But his eyes burned with something that looked like betrayal and pain and was Spock watched they started to shut down, the emotion bleeding from there too. A shock crackled up the hybrid's spine.

Jim believed he was being used, that Spock indulging in lessons and company he would disregard.

It sent a flair across his stomach and core of his own betrayal and anger, struck that Jim would think he was capable of it. He felt the enamel of his teeth slide together a little more harshly than then he would have liked and his eyes narrowed.

When he spoke, as he always did, he drove straight for the point, cutting through flesh to the bone. "You believe I'm taking advantage of you with no intention of utilizing what I have learned or returning to engage ranch life or the Chicalato family in the future."

Something in his tone must have caught Jim unawares because his eyes widened and he took a half step back. Spock felt an ugly coil of satisfaction and actually took the half step that Jim gave, crowding the blonde just slightly.

"Not only is this a falsehood and an assumption that you have made with only the past experiences and actions of others that have treated you as such for basis, it is an insult. I would have hoped that by now our association and familiarity would have cured you of any doubt that I would take advantage of then abandon you so easily. Had hoped that I stood apart from those in your past."

Jim paled and the satisfaction flushed Spock slightly at the chastised blonde. Jim cast his eyes to the floor and hitched his shoulders but didn't bolt or shy away, just stood calmly, braced for an onslaught. Spock puffed slightly but let the air out and stepped back, sure that his point had been driven home.

After a long breath Jim spoke, his voice cracked and low. "Spock... 'M sorry... I, um... 'm still... like you said, 'm still..."

Cokata 's words echoed in Spock's mind, that Jim was damaged in ways that he could not help himself. That he had been conditioned to expect the worst, to brace for the cruelty then wait to be cast aside. He expected it.

Spock dipped his head; catching Jim's eyes and carefully drawing the blonde's gaze back up as he straightened.

"You are forgiven."

Jim swallowed and nodded jerkily.

"Perhaps it would be a notion best made at a later time. But it is not an unsavory notion." Spock said at length.

Jim nodded slowly again and licked his lips.

"Papa!"

The pitch so high it was near a shriek, a cry of elation that echoed in the lobby and every head snapped around at the noise, save Cody who looked up towards the rafters at the slight vibration of the room.

Spock watched as a girl no more than eight wrenched her arm forcefully out of Jocelyn Dauphin's grip and sprinted wildly towards the main group of the Brotherhood, as she ran the child dropped a pale blue backpack. It hit the floor with enough force that it rattled and rolled over a few times.

McCoy staggered forwards a few steps, the jerky rise and fall of his chest was erratic and shallow, as if the older man were hyperventilating.

"Jo-" He choked on her name.

"Papa!"

McCoy's knees hit the tiled flooring hard enough to crack and echo in the lobby, his torso rocked as the child slammed bodily into him, wrapping her arms around his throat and squeezing so hard it broke McCoy's breath and she burrowed into his throat.

For a long moment McCoy was still, his system shocked and hands slack on the floor before he carefully wrapped himself around the eight year old. Pressing his face into her hair and gingerly cradling her up against his chest, as if she was made of spun glass and he feared crushing her. McCoy stumbled in his kneel, rocking backwards and splaying his legs awkwardly until the girl was scooped up into his lap and continued his feather light embrace.

McCoy's whole frame was vibrating and salted water slipped from the edges of his eyes to dribble into his daughter's hair and tangle it.

The males of the Brotherhood stood back respectfully but Cody stalked forward a few steps, not close enough to intrude but clearly stood like some eerie kind of silent sentry, her spine ram rod straight, shoulders thrown, arms crossed tightly over her chest and legs spread with knees locked. Her head lifted and angled in the way a large predator exposed her throat to another of her kin, making clear they thought so little of the other that they were no threat to life or territory.

Jocelyn Dauphin was as pretty as she had been on the vid screen but the air around her seemed near toxic. She was dressed in a sleek, red dress that hugged her slender frame though she was buried under a puffy black parka that looked newly bought. As if her attempt to be intimidating and obviously well off had displeased Montana herself. The lawyer at her flank, a straight backed, slim man in a charcoal grey suit had his tie cinched up so tight the veins in his neck stood out and he looked slightly flushed. His hair was slicked back and stiff. He was also bundled in a dark parka that looked as if it had never been used before.

They both looked miserable but desperate to hide it.

Jocelyn huffed, ruffling herself like a bird with feathers and marched forwards with a harsh click of her high heels.

McCoy's eyes snapped up at the movement, his jaw tightened and he instinctively bundled his daughter closer to his chest. Jocelyn tossed her head, looking slightly murderous and quickened her steps.

Cody took another few steps forward, catching Jocelyn's eyes and the woman nearly staggered to a stop.

The deaf rancher's eyes had become molten pools of steel, every muscle in her body coiled and strung tight. This time her head was dropped and Spock saw a breathy snort pass through her nostrils, flaring them and her throat vibrated, rippling in what could have only been a soundless growl. Warning Jocelyn that she was crossing some invisible line.

Spock came from a species that, historically, founded by patriarchs. Still many females in the Vulcan society were in high ranks and well respected and slowly but surely the Vulcans had become a matriarch dominated society. Though they were never seen as the stronger of the species. Females, even in their positions, were typically submissive. Passive. And it was innate in the Vulcan breeding to know this.

Spock had grown use to respecting and recognizing Cody's position as the matriarch. As a dominant.

Thought he had never seen her truly act as an alpha before this moment.

He was reminded idly of a historical reference passed down from the very beginnings of the Enlightenment. A male had once chosen a mate for himself but another was vying for her hand. When the Fever had come upon them the males had enacted _koon-ut-kal-if-fee_ intending that only one survive and take the female. When her preferred mate was knocked from his feet she'd rushed to his defense and fought the unwanted male herself and slaughtered him ruthlessly.

This was a similar challenge. Cody saw Jocelyn as a threat. She would lash out and Spock predicted that should Cody feel the need to act she would be far fiercer than that Vulcan female had been. In her mind Cody would be defending her younger siblings, all of them, whom she had spent the duration of her life protecting and nurturing. Even then she was twice as dangerous as with the presence of McCoy's daughter she was guarding a child.

Cody growled silently again and tucked her head towards her chest and stalked another step towards Jocelyn and the woman retreated a yard or so, quelling Cody enough that she lifted her head again.

"Mister Brees. Miss Dauphin, welcome to Darby, Montana." Cokata rumbled his voice smooth and wolfish and quickly distracting them with legalese and jargon. His hands skimmed over the ridges of his tires as he pushed his wheelchair passed Cody towards them.

The alpha Chicalato narrowed her eyes and tensed, not pleased by one of her younger brothers being so close to the opposition. She backed off slightly but still shied away from intruding on McCoy and his child.

Jim gingerly nudged the young hybrid forwards and moved to stand a few yards from where McCoy had finally eased back from the little girl but kept his hands on her, making sure she was real.

Joanna McCoy-Dauphin was blessed. She looked much like a miniaturized, female version of her father. Chocolate hair flecked with ginger and her brilliant eyes green umber. Her face was dusted with fine freckles and the deep lines that McCoy often used for scowling were warped into a grin on her face. She was small and slight for a child her age but her personality and mind radiated so powerfully that Spock felt the thrum of it at a distance. It was warm and flushed with adoration as she relaxed in her father's lap. Her hands moved wildly, animated when she spoke, as expressive as her father.

She was bundled up in a fleece lined denim jacket over a dark blue shirt and blue jeans and children's cowboy boots. There was a fine gold necklace around her throat that sported a large heat shaped locket, she was toying with it.

"I got it Papa. See? I never take it off! Mama didn't like it but I did." The child practically crowed and roughly tugged open the locket and tilted it towards McCoy, on one side was a miniature picture of a younger McCoy and Joanna. "I put our picture in there."

McCoy swallowed heavily, tears biting at the edges of his eyes and he sniffed heavily before nodding shakily and stroking her hair.

"Papa, no." She whined and scrubbed his tears with her hands before squeezing his face slightly with her palms. "Don't be sad."

"Darlin', 'M not sad. 'M happy." McCoy soothed and dipped his head to place a kiss on her nose then her forehead; nuzzling her hair and just soaking her in.

Joanna looked at him suspiciously before sighing and nodding in a way that McCoy did to Jim when the blonde insisted that he was ready to return to his position on the bridge.

Jim carefully stepped closer, hanging back just enough that if he crowding he could back off quickly. He tilted to catch McCoy's eye and waited until the older man motioned him forwards before smiling and closing the distance. Spock followed closely on his heels. Joanna looked up at them, head cocking to the side.

"Joanna this is Jim and Spock. They're in charge of our ship." McCoy's voice sounded rough and was clearing slowly.

Jim squatted down onto his heels and held out his hand, waiting until Joanna took it, his large hand closed completely over the child's as he shook it once.

"Hey Joanna." He said quietly.

"Hi Jim." She responded before looking at Spock.

"Greetings Joanna." The hybrid said, dipping his head.

"Hi Spock. Ya'll are in charge of my Papa, right?"

Jim hummed, "Something like that."

"He's the best." Joanna said. It was clear that she wasn't looking for assurance, only agreement. It was very clear that she knew she was in the right.

"Course he is." Jim scoffed and as he stood lightly feathered her hair.

"Indeed. Your father is exceptional in his practice." Spock agreed honestly.

McCoy swallowed heavily.

"That's what I said. C'mon Papa, get up off the floor." Joanna scrambled slightly to her feet before grabbing a hold of her father's hand and tugging him up stiffly to his feet. He staggered slightly before regaining himself, for a moment showing his age while Joanna clung tightly to him.

The rest of the Brotherhood closed in quietly. Each introduced to Joanna with a confident handshake and fatherly smiles, assuring her of the playmates she would have at Native Sky.

Cody, keeping an eye firmly on Cokata, Jocelyn and Brees, moved over slowly until McCoy motioned her forwards and carefully nudged his daughter towards her.

"Joanna, when ya talk to Miss Cody try to say all yer letters clearly, alright?" McCoy coaxed.

"Why?"

"Miss Cody can't hear but she can understand what you're saying by reading yer lips."

"She can't hear at all?"

"No, darlin'."

"But yer the best doctor anywhere, cain't ya fix is so she can hear?"

Cikala tensed and the other members of the Brotherhood looked between each other.

"It doesn't matter if I could or not, what matters is that Miss Cody doesn't want to be 'fixed'." McCoy hummed. Joanna's brow knit.

"Really?"

McCoy nodded. "But Miss Cody doesn't need to hear to be able to whip all of us."

Joanna looked shocked for a split second before tilting her head back to look up at Cody. The petite rancher looked back, head cocked slightly. Her lips twitched in a slight smile before holding out her hand. Joanna hesitated before carefully taking it.

Cody made a simple sign.

"Those signs are how Miss Cody talks." McCoy said. "She said 'hello'."

"Oh..." Joanna hesitated before repeating the sign back and Cody smiled warmly with a slight nod.

"Miss Cody's goin' to teach ya how to ride a horse."

"Really?!" Joanna shrieked and launched on the rancher, hugging her waist tightly. The woman blinked down at her, eyebrows tilted up and looking from the top of the head to McCoy and back again.

"I cain't wait! I told everyone at school and they were all jealous and wanted to come! I want a pony with blue eyes and spots!"

"Joanna, no one said nothin' 'bout gettin' yer own pony." McCoy pinched the bridge of his nose and crushed his eyes shut.

Cody's eyebrows tilted, reading McCoy's lips and she smiled slightly.

_**She wants a pony?**_

"With blue eyes and spots." Jim smiled slightly as he signed the words.

Cody grinned fully and made a slight side to side bob of her head before clicking her tongue._** I can make that happen.**_

"No, thanks, Miss Cody." McCoy said quickly, stumbling over his sign language. "Just... not now."

Cody smiled at the fidgeting of the older man, assuring him while she gently patted the child's back and nudged her away.

Cokata rolled back over, swinging to the side and shaking Joanna's hand with a smile before jerking his head towards the stairs. "Courtroom Three. Second floor."

Joanna latched on to her father's hand and tilted until she could look at her mother.

"Mama, I'm gonna go with Papa." She called loudly and looked longingly towards her abandoned backpack but the child was clearly tuned into her mother's intentions enough to refrain from separating from her sire for a fraction of a moment for fear of being torn away.

"Baby, maybe that's not such a good idea." Jocelyn started forwards the group and every member of the Brotherhood stiffened when McCoy did.

"Why's that Miss Dauphin?" Jim asked coolly and crossed his arms tightly over his chest. "Joanna'll be surrounded by veteran soldiers, police, firefighters, decorated Starfleet officers and one of the best medical professionals in the Federation who also happens to be her father... so it can't be about her safety... right?"

Jocelyn flushed and her eyes went icy but she didn't speak through her grit teeth. The abrasive pulse of psychonic energy thrummed from her in a new, thickened wave.

Joanna shifted a little towards her father but unlike most children she moved in front of him, putting herself physically between her dame and sire. Spock narrowed his eyes. Clearly the level of animosity that had occurred between McCoy and his estranged wife was far more intense than Spock had previously suspected.

The hybrid knew on good authority that the last years of their marriage had been warped and skewed, evidently, by the role reversal demonstrated by Joanna, far more than any record or action Spock had crossed in reading personnel files or McCoy's behavior.

What had happened between the woman and the medical officer than had caused Joanna to believe she needed to protect her parent?

Spock straightened himself up, hands settled firmly in the small of his back and fingers toying with the jet stone bracelet as he walked calmly over to the backpack, bent and lightly lifted it before turning and walking back to hand it off to Joanna, the entire time making a point to refrain from looking at either Jocelyn or her lawyer, Brees.

Joanna readily took the back pack, dropping it on her boots and reached out to very briefly take the hybrid's hand in thanks before letting go.

Spock blinked and rubbed his fingers across the heel of his palm, soothing the over excited buzz and brilliant spark of the child's mind lingering in the back of his thoughts. He tensed then relaxed when Jim nudged his side and gave an approving smile. It was reflected twice over in Cody's grey eyes and McCoy's grateful twitch of his lips, as Joanna tugged him towards the stairs.

Cokata separated from the group and started towards the lifts at the far end of building, Creek jogging to keep up while the rest of the Brotherhood, Spock and Jim started up the wide staircase towards the second floor, leaving Brees and Jocelyn to wait for the lift.

Jim stuck close to Spock's side, their elbows brushing comfortably in the climb. Spock's thoughts still lingered on McCoy's stalemate with his divorced wife and his eyes lingering on the way that Joanna clung and leaned on her father, looking up at him with the adoration that McCoy returned in ten fold.

They stepped out onto a long hall, Cokata already waiting by a pair of glass and wood doors with Wallace, the officer Jim had introduced him too in the parking lot, and Creek on his other flank.

Cokata nodded towards the doors and led them into the court room.

The room looked much like it must have at the building's founding. Half the room was filled with long, carved wood benches that led up to a waist high railing, beyond that were two desks, on the left a door and on the right two rows of six seats on a dais next to another door. Dead center of the room was a tall, hard wood dais and a pulpit like desk, linked to a witness stand. The room was entirely empty, Spock followed dutifully behind Jim as the Brotherhood filed into the first bench behind the right side desk. Joanna held tight to McCoy and went with him and Cokata through the short rail divider to sit behind the desk. Wallace walked in with Jocelyn and Brees behind them.

Silence rang in the room, only broken by the shuffle of papers and soft sounds of Jim and Cody breathing next to him. Wallace stepped around to leaned against the judge's stand worked his jaw as if he was chewing. His eyes flicked up as a slender, whip like man trotted in with a laptop tucked under his arm.

"Russ." Wallace hummed, with a grin as the dark haired man quickly dropped into a small chair and desk set ext to the judge's dais.

"Hey Wallace. Sorry 'm late. Missy was colicky all night." The ruffled man huffed tiredly and scrubbed at waxy eyes.

"Did ya try takin' her on a four wheeler yet?" Cokata asked.

The court Officer, Russ, whipped his head round before his thin face split into a wide grin. "Cokata Chicalato!"

"Hey Russ." The counselor grinned and skidded forwards to take the court recorder's hand in a firm shake, then looked up at the rest of the Brotherhood who smiled and wave.

"And everybody else!" Russ barked. "Is it the holidays already?"

"Colicky baby, huh Russ?" Jim asked, cocking his head slightly.

"For the last week. I'm ready to take her to see Doc."

"How colicky?" McCoy asked seriously as he shifted in his seat until Joanna was sitting carefully in his lap, her backpack on the floor next to their feet.

"Enough to keep her up. We pass her around all night long." Russ sighed tiredly and dug his fingers into his hair.

"How old?" Spock tilted his head slightly, recognizing the physician's tone in McCoy's voice.

"Seven months. It's normal, right?"

Every member of the Brotherhood nodded decisively and Russ breathed out.

"Toweya was the worst." Cikala assured, "It went on for months. Try the four wheeler at low speed. Worked for her-"

"And Suri." Cokata assured. "Four wheeler and car rides. The vibration does them in."

Russ looked towards McCoy who nodded. "Low impact. Loosens up their guts and puts 'em to sleep. Give it a shot if it doesn't work out in a couple days take her to Rhado."

"Or ya." Russ shrugged.

"Conflict of interest Russ." Wallace rumbled with an easy smile.

"Hey, I just take notes." Russ lifted his hands placatingly.

"Anyway." Wallace shrugged and lifted a Terran Christian Bible into the air. "Everybody swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothin' but the truth?"

They all nodded and lifted their rights hands briefly.

"Good." Wallace tossed the Bible carelessly upwards onto the pulpit surface and dusted his hands. Brees and Jocelyn looked slightly shocked at the casual way the swearing in had been done. Every head turned as the far side door next to the jury's stand opened and an older, tawny skinned man stalked in, tugging on black tribunal robes over faded jeans and a red plaid button down shirt. His hair was steel grey and white, face lined deeply and Spock was sure he was Native American in ancestry. There was a deep scar running from under his right eye towards his ear and his hands were weathered and seemed to be made of leather.

"All rise!" Wallace boomed, filling the room with his voice. "Judge Jacob Deepwater residing."

Everyone rose to their feet as the judge climbed stiffly into his pulpit and sat, flipping his robes but leaving them open. The man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose and waved at them. Russ jogged to his laptop, booting it up and pulling up his programs designed to take the minutes of the proceedings. Wallace backed off to stand dutifully next to the judge.

"Everyone's been sworn in, yer Honor."

"Thanks Wallace." The man grumbled, then looked up at them, his eyes flicked over Brees and Jocelyn before settling on the Brotherhood. He paled slightly. "Goddamnit."

"Hey Uncle Jake." The Brotherhood chorused together.

Spock's eyebrows knit and looked from the judge to Jim, who nodded and smiled in affirmation.

"What the Hell re ya brats doin' in here!?"

"Awe c'mon, Uncle Jake, ain't ya happy to see us?" Casper rumbled with a grin.

"Shut up boy. Who let this group of lunatics in here? Wallace?"

The officer shrugged and scratched at his jaw.

Uncle Jake snorted like and angered horse and glared at his blood and adopted nieces and nephews. "Had to be all of ya didn't it?"

"We're character witnesses, Uncle Jake." Jim responded.

"The Hell... Ain't ya supposed to be in orbit or somethin' Jim Kirk!?!" Uncle Jake fumed in a way that Spock was sure then that the harsh words and bristling we honest animosity towards his family.

"I'm on liberty Uncle Jake."

"Judge. This is my house. Judge, got it?" Uncle Jake snarled and glared at the blonde. Jim shifted in his seat a little.

"Yessir." Jim said quietly.

"All of ya." Uncle Jake snorted warningly and the rest of the Brotherhood dipped their heads in agreement.

"Yer Honor?" Brees rose and carefully straightened his suit and Uncle Jake looked around at him murderously.

"Yeah?"

Brees blinked but stood himself to his full height and spoke in his low, rolling southern accent. "Yer Honor, are ya truly related to the prosecutin' attorney as well as all of the docketed character witnesses?"

"Unfortunately." Uncle Jake growled back in his northern dialect. "Yer point counselor?"

"Then I wish to propose to postpone the proceeding until another judge is available."

The Brotherhood snapped their heads around and stared at him.

" 'Scuse me?" Uncle Jake hissed.

"Idiot.' Cokata grinned and relaxed back in his wheelchair, winking at McCoy.

"Mr. Brees did ya just question my abilities to be an impartial judge? Question my competence to act morally with the law in mind fittin' this courtroom despite who are involved in the case? This courtroom where I have ruled consistently uncontested for forty years?" Uncle Jake snarled and actually rose to his feet.

Brees shrank away from the judge. "Yer Honor, I didn't-"

"Ya didn't what, Mr. Brees?" Uncle Jake snorted.

"Yer Honor, I'm not questionin' yer competency-"

"GOOD!" Uncle Jake boomed. "Now that we're all on the same page let's get down to business, first, get that pup outta here. I'll not have a child in court while her parents go at it. Jim, take her out. I don't need yer testimony."

The judge dropped into his seat and straightened his robes and flannel shirt.

"But... " She fumbled slightly to decided what to call the judge before following the Brotherhood's example. "…Uncle Jake I want to stay with my Papa." Joanna protested helplessly and clung to McCoy's shirt. Uncle Jake looked up at her before straightening up and folding his hands in front of him.

" 'M sorry, young lady. I understand yer want but ya must understand that I don't think it's very good for ya to be here right now. I promise ya'll see yer Papa as soon as I'm able to release him to yer custody, understood?"

Joanna sighed before nodding and sliding off McCoy's lap, sire and daughter reluctant to make the last break of physical contact before Joanna scooped up her backpack and dutifully took Jim's hand and looking back at McCoy walked quietly outside the court room.

Jim caught Spock's eyes for a moment before nodding assuringly and slipped out of sight.

Spock shifted slightly in his seat and but settled when Cody lightly patted his knee.

Spock turned his attention outward, soaking in his first experience of true court proceedings in silence. The first hour ticked by slowly as Brees and Cokata battled passively, pleading their cases and lashing out at Jocelyn and McCoy in nearly every sentence. While Brees seemed to act out and spoke harshly while Cokata's calm tenor was like honey laced with poison. It was almost dizzying and Spock nearly caught himself thinking of more idle things until late in the second hour records were produced and the series of character witness started with Spock.

He sat calmly in the witness stand, making sure to keep his attention on Cokata.

"State the nature of yer relationship with Doctor McCoy for the court, Mister Spock." The wheelchair bound man coaxed.

"I am stationed as the First Officer and Science Officer on the _USS Enterprise_. Doctor McCoy is the ship's Chief Medical Officer. And by default is my person physician."

"He ever act unprofessionally?"

"He retains an unusual bedside manner but has never shirked his duties." Spock responded honestly.

Cokata smirked. "I guess we can all honestly say that Doctor McCoy has a certain kind of character. But Mister Spock, in a crisis... can ya honestly say that ya would prefer someone else workin' on ya or anyone else in the crew?"

"Starfleet's medical personnel are highly trained and well practiced before they are put into the field or crisis situations. But even compared to this extensive preparedness Doctor McCoy has shown an unusual brilliance and talent for his position. It would be less than ideal to have another take his position and duties. Especially on the _Enterprise_, as the flagship of the Fleet she is often provided the most excellent individuals in their fields. To have a subpar Chief of Medical is illogical if not hazardous to the well being of the crew."

"Have ya ever witnessed any... strange behavior from Doctor McCoy when he is performing his duties? Has he ever intentionally harmed or neglected someone in need? Ever been selective 'bout who he treats and how?"

Spock's eyebrow twitched up, "While I cannot testify for the times of which I am absent from the medical bay I have never witnessed abusive behavior from Doctor McCoy. He often over extends himself in his work, giving up personal time to act as ship's counselor and work in the medical labs. Doctor McCoy has proven himself to be honorable and exceptional in his profession. Furthermore... I personally prefer him as my physician. Doctor McCoy has handled my medical files and needs with an amount of decorum that I have not received from other medical personnel."

McCoy cocked his head and caught Spock's eye at the admission. The hybrid dipped his head before returning his attention to Cokata.

"Alright, so we've established that there's no one better suited for physical support, should Joanna fall ill or be injured."

"Indeed."

"Mister Spock were ya aware that Doctor McCoy was a father?"

"It was stated in his personal files."

"So, with access to his personal files ya are aware that he is also divorced and due to his position in Starfleet and onboard the _Enterprise_ has agreed to a standing judgment that his daughter remains on Earth in the care of her mother."

"Yes."

"And ya are aware that this judgment is not a surrender of parental rights? That Doctor McCoy could sue for custody and she would be allowed on board the _Enterprise_?"

"It is unusual for civilians or family members to be allowed stations on active ships but not unheard of with special circumstances."

"But ya are aware he has that right?"

"Yes."

"Ya have never seen Doctor McCoy interact with his child before have ya?"

"No."

"Objection. Relevance?" Brees snorted.

"Yer Honor, I'm tryin' to establish the plaintiff can be a proper caregiver both physically and emotionally." Cokta protested just as quickly.

Uncle Jake sighed. "Mister Brees, refrain from makin' idle objections in my house. I don't want to mark ya as a pain in my ass but I will. Go on Cokata."

"So, Mister Spock, the first time ya ever saw 'em together was out in the hall earlier?"

"Yes."

"Yer a creature of observation. What was yer first impression? What ya think when ya saw them together?"

Spock paused for a moment, deciding to keep his theories of the aggression Jocelyn had instilled in her interactions with McCoy to himself unless questioned specifically about it.

"I... believe that both were exceptionally... happy to see one another. I am under the impression that they have not interacted in some time, though the amount of affection and devotion that McCoy displayed for Joanna was returned equally."

Cokata hummed quietly for a moment. "So... ya'd say that there wasn't any kind of behavior or action ya saw that warranted some kind of fear that McCoy abused his position as a father, that he would neglect or mistreat Joanna?"

Spock bristled, more accusations of misbehavior? He glanced at McCoy who looked just as appalled as he felt.

"No." Spock responded coolly and checked himself when Cokata sent him a warningly look to relax. Spock breathed out. "No. I do not believe that Doctor McCoy is capable of performing such behavior on a stranger, much less his own child... whom in my observations, he very much cares for."

"So ya, in yer personal and professional opinion don't think that an environment centered 'round Leonard McCoy would be a harmful one?"

"Quite the opposite."

Cokata winked at him before backing off and Brees rose and strode forwards. Spock stiffened in his seat and focused on Brees.

"Mister Spock, ya'll are the son of the Vulcan Ambassador Sarek are ya not?" The man drawled and unlike Cokata wove and sidestepped through the room.

"This is true."

"So he was in yer home on again, off again, wasn't he?"

"My father was often away, yes."

"So, would ya consider him absentee? One step down from a runaway?"

"Mister Brees." Uncle Jake growled softly before Cokata or Spock could react. "Watch what ya say 'bout an important diplomat."

"I'm tryin' to make a point, yer honor-"

"Then make it without slandering my parentage." Spock said icily.

"Mister Spock."

"Apologies, Judge Deepwater."

"Cain't blame ya but leave it to me or Cokata. Alright?"

"Yes, your Honor."

Uncle Jake nodded before rounding on Brees. "Then make yer point without slanderin' his parentage. It's a little too 'Deep South' for my northern blood, Mister Brees. Go forward carefully."

Brees looked as near murderous as he dared but didn't dare make an accusation of an unfair court.

"Alright... Mister Spock Vulcan's mate for life, don't they?"

"Unless conditions and circumstances are otherwise influencing the marriage then yes, Vulcans mate and bond for a lifetime."

"So... yer as close to havin' a single parent home as anyone from Vulcan? Without havin' one parent dead or some such, right?"

Spock suppressed a tick in his jaw. "Possibly."

"Yer Honor, I'm startin' to wonder who's on trial here." Cokata sighed.

"I'm-"

"Yeah yeah yeah, makin' a point." Cokata harshly cut off Brees. "Actually yer tryin' to discredit the witness by makin' an example of his supposedly non-existent father, who actually did exist, by propositionin' that he was essentially raised in a 'single parent household' by his mother. Therefore tyin' to design a defense that if Spock here grew up the way he grew up with only periodical and short exposure to his father then why in Hell shouldn't Joanna McCoy be submitted to the same, seein' as how by precedent set by the witness himself, that she wouldn't be adversely effected by the absence of her father. Right?"

By this point Brees was flushed so deeply he was red in the face.

"Am I right?" Cokata pressed.

"Yer Honor-"

"Is he right Mister Brees?" Uncle Jake asked with a raised eyebrow.

Brees stood rigid and red in the middle of the courtroom, fists clenched and swallowing hard. Uncle Jake snorted before turning to Spock.

"Mister Spock, ya have this court's apologies for the unprovoked attack on yer childhood and familial ties. Ya may step down."

Spock nodded before pushing himself up and strode passed Brees without looking at him before settling down in the bench next to Cody. She lightly touched his elbow.

_**Go sit with Jim and Joanna, sugar.**_

Spock breathed out softly before nodding and rising slowly before passing out of the courtroom as Casper ws called to stand. Spock briefly glanced back and noticed McCoy watching him. The doctor mouthed a silent apology and only turned away when Spock dipped his head.

Once the door was shut behind him he breathed deeply, letting a small vibration of barely controlled anger ripple into his limbs and make his hands shake slightly.

"Spock?"

His head snapped up and he was already moving towards where Jim and Joanna were sprawled across the floor. Between them was a torn open ream of white paper half gone, a metal tin of colored wax crayons and another one of sticks of charcoal and synthetic lead pencils. Joanna's pale blue backpack and denim fleece jacket were in a heap on the floor among scattered papers that were filled either with wild, brilliant colors casual drawings or abstract designs or fine, carefully made sketches of a more practiced hand. There were designs of everything from flowers and animals to Federation ships and portraits of individuals.

Joanna was lying on her belly, paper directly on the stone floor while Jim sat with his back against the wall and a heavy criminal law text in his lap providing the support of a drawing pad.

"Is my Papa, alright?" Joanna asked, pushing herself up slightly.

"He is anxious for the proceedings to end but it physically well." Spock assured.

Joanna huffed quietly before easing back down onto her belly and went back to coloring in a sketch of a fox. Spock tilted his head and looked down at the drawing, watching while Joanna filled in between the lines with red.

"Are you okay?" Jim asked quietly. Spock pulled away and stepped over, hovering for a moment before easing down to sit next to Jim against the wall.

"I am well." He assured, neatly folding his hands into his lap. Jim hesitated for a moment before tipping the law text towards him, showing Spock a sheet of paper that was filled with a carefully drawn sketch of Joanna where she was lying on the floor, bent over the impromptu coloring page Jim had made for her. Though Joanna's hair was tied up in reality, in his sketch Jim had drawn her hair down, spilling over her shoulder and pooling onto the floor.

"I'm going to give it to Bones in a minute. Keep him motivated, you know?" Jim shrugged a shoulder,

"He's good at drawin' isn't he?" Joanna hummed from where she was.

"I was unaware that you possessed this ability." Spock said quietly.

Jim twitched his lips up. "When we were kids Ben and Ina wanted us to be 'well rounded'. So we all had to play at least one sport all year round, play at least one musical instrument and be active in one fine art. On top of getting good grades and doing rodeo. I picked drawing because I thought it would be easy."

Jim shook his head before focusing back on the drawing and skating his pencil across already made lines, darkening them.

"I know so much about anatomy it makes me queasy." Jim's eyes flicked up towards Joanna then snapped back down. "I could have been on a medical track at Academy and been just fine..."

"This regiment of education was instilled on you by Cody and the Brotherhood's parents? Not your own?"

Jim shrugged a shoulder while he shaded in Joanna's neck and under her hair. "I volunteered."

Spock nodded, it was common knowledge that Jim scored well above genius level in academics. It was possible that the sheer amount of raw intelligence had developed at an early age. If Jim's home life had been as neglectful as Spock believed then it was likely that that intelligence was just as neglected and could have been stunted, at least until he'd thrown his lot in with the Chicalato clan.

Jim had said he'd been six when met Cody, just missing the first crucial five years where a child's mind grew exponentially... how much more intelligent and advanced would Jim have been if those first six years had been nurtured correctly.

Jim skimmed his pencil over the paper, putting in the last few details before carefully folding the page into quarters and awkwardly pushed himself up to his feet and stepped around Spock. "Watch Joanna for a second. I'll be right back."

Jim jogged away and ducked into the courtroom. Spock watched him for a moment before looking around at Joanna.

"Wanna draw?" Joanna held out her red crayon and Spock hesitated before taking it and pulling a fresh sheet of white paper towards himself. He splayed his legs, setting the paper flat on the floor before starting a geometric doodle in red near the edge.

The design grew across the page slowly, added to with dark purple and yellow. Spock only paused when Jim returned, with another law book for Spock to use as a support. The trio sat idly, sketching and coloring, occasionally appraising each other on their work. Joanna took some serious interest in Spock's careful and measured lines and shapes, wondering aloud if they were mazes. Spock watched Jim discretely draw the hybrid's own portrait from the corner of his eye.

After the sixth drawing of Joanna and third of Spock Jim seemed to have had enough and slumped down towards the floor, fingers blackened by charcoal and eyes shut.

Spock gave up his own attempts at art shortly after and Joanna filled the silence by rearranging the pictures and adding a winding narrative that involved Spock and a red fox and a band of unicorns marching across a desert to save Princess Joanna from a dragon and a witch and a thunderstorm all at once. Their misadventures often interrupted by quicksand and evil soldiers made of rock or fire and occasionally a giant panda wearing a bow tie that demanded sacrifices of strawberries or solving complex riddles that evidently were difficult even for this imaginary Spock.

Whenever there was a gap in a story Joanna quickly scribbled together a scene to put into the midst of what was quickly becoming a book. Spock realized it was winding down when Princess Joanna, the fox, the reformed dragon that couldn't fly and himself bid faire well to the band of unicorns and went to live on a pink grass ranch with Captain Jim, Cody the Valiant and Papa.

By the end of if Spock was near exhausted just listening.

"Jo, make sure you tell that story to Mister Spock's Dad the first chance you get, okay?" Jim muttered from her slumped seat against the wall, looking more asleep than awake.

"Is he comin' to holidays?"

"I dunno. Hey Spock, you're dad coming to holidays? I'm sure he's welcome."

"I am unsure what his schedule will entail at the time. Nor do Vulcans celebrate holidays in the fashion that humans do. Though I will extend the invitation upon the next time that I speak with him."

"Awesome." Joanna hummed.

"Totally." Jim smirked and yawned. "How long have we been at it?"

"Six point two three hours since I have exited the court room." Spock responded instantly.

"No minutes or seconds Mister Spock?" Jim sighed.

Before the hybrid could respond the doors to the court room opened up, the room emptying with McCoy striding in the lead and breaking into a jog towards them.

"Papa!' Joanna squealed, scrambling up to meet his embrace and hugged tightly. Spock and Jim pushed up to their feet and straightened their wrinkled dress shirts.

Joanna pushed back from her father and looked up at him. "Can we go home now Papa."

"Ya do know that we're goin' to the ranch, right." McCoy assured.

Next to him Jim breathed a sigh of relief and grinned widely at McCoy, the doctor looked exhausted but at peace.

"Yes! I'll go say good bye to mama." Joanna dashed down the hall, skidding passed the cluster of the Brotherhood, Uncle Jake, Russ and Wallace to quickly speak with her mother and Mister Brees.

"Got her for the rest of liberty." McCoy rushed out looking like he was near hyperventilating.

"That's great Bones." Jim huffed and pulled the older man into a hug. McCoy gripped the blonde tightly, letting out a shuddering sigh before stepping back and turning to Spock.

"Well done, Doctor." The hybrid praised.

"I'm sorry that happened, Spock."

"What happened?" Jim asked sharply, bristling.

"That bottom feeder went after Spock's dad." McCoy growled and jerked his head towards Brees. Jim snorted and stiffened up.

"Jim. Cokata and Judge Deepwater did a fair job of correcting him." Spock assured.

"You can call him 'Uncle Jake', Spock." Jim muttered as he deflated.

"We are not related-"

Jim shrugged and looked to where Cody was shaking Uncle Jake's hand before he grudgingly allowed her to kiss his cheek. The rest of the Brotherhood was walking towards them, praising Cokata whose predatory wolfish grin had been replaced by the gentle, fatherly smile.

"Jacob Deepwater is Ina's brother. And he really doesn't like any of us. Never figure out why?"

"'Cause he didn't like Dad." Casper snorted, stepping back slightly as Cody moved in, smiling at McCoy specifically. The older man twitched back a smile but most of his attention lingered on Joanna who was nodding distractedly to anything that Jocelyn seemed to be saying to her.

"Relax Caniwahu." Cokata assured. "Wallace is goin' to go with 'em to get her stuff and he'll bring it up later but she's goin' with us."

McCoy nodded stiffly but refused to look away from Joanna. Jim busied himself collecting the scattered papers, crayons and bits of charcoal, stuffing 'Spock's Grand Adventure' into Joanna's backpack and zipping it up before handing it off to the doctor along with the fleece lined denim jacket.

Cody lightly gripped McCoy's elbow and gave him a gentle tug to follow her. The doctor resisted briefly before following dutifully over to where Jocelyn and Brees were talking to Joanna. The other's stiffened while Joanna happily wrapped herself around McCoy's arm and hand again while the medical officer and his estranged wife exchanged stilted words. Wallace hovering slightly and watching closely.

"C'mon." Jim nudged Spock towards the stairwell as the Brotherhood made their way down. "Russ! Good luck with the baby!"

"Thanks Jim!" Russ called back, waving and tucking his laptop under his arm.

Spock followed the Brotherhood and Jim down into the lobby and out into the heavily falling rain, Casper carrying Cokata and Creek the folded wheel chair, they made a mad dash back to the Durango and waited patiently until McCoy and Cody rushed out, Joanna squealing and clinging to her father's hand desperately.

They settled back into their places in the SUV, Joanna curling up in McCoy's lap in the front seat.

The ride back was uneventful and filled with the brothers recounting to Jim every move Cokata had made in the court room.

By the time they had arrived at Native Sky, Joanna was asleep had to be carried indoors, they trooped back in stripping off the dress shirts and diving for sweaters and hooded sweatshirts. Spock could feel a level of exhaustion seeping into his muscle but followed Jim out to the arena where he saddled Jeepers Creepers and did circles and paces alongside Jim and Yellow Wolf, working and improving diligently on more and more complex cues for the better part of an hour before Jim said he was slightly lightheaded.

The large breakfast seemed to have run its course and Spock walked closely at the blonde's side, flexing to react each time the tired human stumbled or yawned.

They stepped into the quiet kitchen, the drifting scent of warm chowder still filling the room while Cody was washing dishes at the sink, the albino German Sherpherd, Canteska, curled up and sleeping at her heels. She sighed silently at their appearance and pointed them to sit down as she cranked the remainder of the soup back to heat.

Jim slumped in his seat, eyes heavy.

_**You two didn't get a snack or anything, did you?**_

They shook their heads and Cody snorted softly before crossing to the refrigerator and pull out a large sealed bowl and a carton of orange juice. She opened the container and set it between the two and nudged a ceramic container full of flatware towards them. The bowl was filled to the brim with large chunks of sliced fruits and whole strawberries. She poured each of them a tall glass of the orange juice.

From off in the corner Nemo A534 rose stiffly to his paws and trotted towards them, bathing Jim and Spock's hands with his tongue before nudging them to be scratched behind the ears. While Spock focused on the one eyed shepherd Wagi shifted around to receive the same attention from Jim. Situpsa and Anahme stayed curled on the pillow in the corner, dozing and huffing in soft snores.

Jim pulled out a fork, speared a piece of melon from the bowl and almost swallowed it whole. Spock followed his example, eating communally out of the bowl with the blonde, chewing far more slowly than Jim and taking the majority of the strawberries for himself while Jim centered on the peaches and pears. The blonde perked up and looked more awake as the fruit diminished and the glass emptied. Spock felt the effects himself and relinquished the fruit without complaint when Cody replaced it with a large bowl of chowder, bobbing with chunks of bread.

"Did everyone already go to bed?" Jim asked, biting into his own slice of baked bread.

_**Len's in the den with Joanna. He can't sleep. They're watching a movie or something like that. **_

Jim perked, "I'm going to go sit with them."

The blonde scooped up his bowl and started towards the den, Wagi and Nemo A534 following. Spock hesitated a moment, watching as Cody poured two large cups of coffee, before she picked them up and jerked her head towards Jim's path and Spock followed, his hands wrapped around the bowl and warmed through the ceramic, Canteska on their heels. The den was dimly lit, occupied most by the pale glow of the large vid screen in the corner and the room filled with the soft sounds of a children's movie playing on the nano-pixel surface. Brilliant colors and scenes animated by some kind of computer program of what looked like some kind of dragon and a depiction of what may have been a Viking or Scandinavian riding on its back.

McCoy had settled himself in one corner of the plush, russet love seat. He looked alert but tired, his skin seemed to be just slightly vibrating, back in his crème sweater and loose fitting jeans, his hair ruffled and sticking up in odd places. Joanna was curled up and asleep in his lap, dressed in pale blue flannel pajamas and bundled up in a quilt of geometric purple, blue and white designs.

Jim had settled himself into the love seat catty corner to the couch, crossing his legs and settling his bowl into his lap. There was a black fleece throw blanket crumpled on the seat next to him. Cody sidestepped around Spock and handed McCoy one of the cups of coffee before she folded herself into the couch next to him and Joanna.

Jim used one hand to lift and offer the blanket, Spock moved over took it then settled himself into the other cushion of the love seat, Jim's eyebrows flicked up in surprise but shifted over to make room for him. Spock situated the blanket around his frame and mimicked Jim, keeping the bowl of chowder in his lap and focused on the movie. Nemo A534 shifted around to lie on of Spock's feet and ankles.

The room settled into quiet, the easy breathing of the small group relaxed the young hybrid until his eyes were nearly half lidded.

He was truly at ease, something felt oddly whole. As if all the pieces of a complicated puzzle had finally be set into play and now the actual action of fitting it all together was far easier. He was comfortably exhausted, his muscles buzzing quietly as they settled, soothed by the heavy meal pooling in his stomach. His senses slightly dulled and unfocused.

It was a kind of peace that eased him down to his core and relaxed him in a kind of way that not even the deepest level of meditation could. He felt his mind uncoiling and smoothing out as his heartbeat slowed and became almost sluggish, his world drowning in the soothing hum of the four humans and three dogs around him. A stray, semi-blissful hope drifted to the forefront of his mind, asking quietly to the beings and powers that Cody and Jim and McCoy and maybe the beginnings of Spock himself believed controlled fate and the universe to let it last for a little while yet.

"Can we start it over?" Jim asked and McCoy snarled unpleasantly.

**

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****A/N: Sorry for the delay on this chapter, ya'll. Stuff happened and I got lazy for a little while. Anyway. This had a little bit of everything in it; you almost can't tell that it was only about a slot of about twelve hours in a day. **

**Little shout out to my Amigo Amy on this one and her obsession with anatomically correct art work, which does involve some stuff from this series. I bet this chapter will make her want to draw drawings of Jim and Spock drawing drawings.**

**And of course the movie they all watch in the end is Dreamworks **_**How To Train Your Dragon**_**. I am absolutely obsessed with this movie and new fandom and have already posted a one-shot for it you can check it out on my profile. If you haven't seen this movie GO SEE IT NOW. I highly recommend it. **

**And for all those of you who are well aware of how court proceedings take place and the law is upheld I AM ONE OF YOU, I have a half finished degree in Criminal Justice, and 'bent laws' because of conflict of interest and what not in this chapter are all due to dramatic effect and all that jazz. I promise I know what would really happen in a court but would you rather have the realistic court of McCoy sitting around with his baby girl in pajamas and braiding hair?**

**Much Love GO SEE DRAGONS**

**Mary T.**


	13. Chapter 13

**NOTE: DO NOT USE THESE CHAPTERS AS A GUIDE TO BUY A HORSE!!!!! It's a very difficult and thorough process that involves a lot more than walking around a faire grounds and picking out what you think looks good. I repeat DO NOT USE THESE CHAPTERS AS A GUIDE TO BUY A HORSE.**

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**Summary: **_**Mitawa Sukawaka Arc 1/3: Assured that they were only looking for that well matched and easily cooperative mount, that Spock should be looking for what was good for him, a sound foundation to build from.**_

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**Lost Horse Creek, Montana**

"**When you are lonely, let me be your companion. When you are tired, let me carry the load. When you need to learn, let me teach you… after all, I am your horse."**

**-Unknown**

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**Mitawa Sukawaka Arc Part One**

**Chapter Thirteen: Search**

_**"A person travels the world over in search of what he needs and returns home to find it."**_

**-George Moore**

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_**Native Sky Ranch**_

_**124 Flathead Road,**_

_**Lost Horse Creek, Bitterroot Mountain Range, Rocky Mountains, Ravalli County, Montana**_

_**Stardate: 2260**_

_**October 28**_

_**0643 Hours**_

**…**

Spock spun his mug of tea slowly. Listening to the sound of the ceramic grinding against aged cold contents sloshing softly when he turned it too fast or swirled a different series of colors when it moved slowly.

He was fidgeting. It was becoming more and more pronounced. Slightly put out he pushed the mug away and folded his hands tightly together. His fingertips skated across the jet bead bracelet around his healed wrist, feeling the smooth surfaces and the fine horse hair that strung them together. After a moment of inspecting the bracelet his hand lifted to his throat and did a similar, blind inspection of the wide jet stone choker collared around his neck.

Cody had linked the two ornaments into place four days earlier, since then Spock had continually put off returning them, content to keep the bracelet and choker of unknown origins around his neck and wrist for as long as Cody didn't prompt him to return them. The weight felt comforting and it was becoming more and more often that Spock would lift his fingers to skate across their surfaces and a knot somewhere in his core would loosen.

He should have been unsettled that he was putting stock and taking reassurance from an object but could not deny it soothed him, he idly wondered at the origins of the set, Cody had said they were old but Spock didn't ask for further information to avoid bringing attention to the choker and bracelets and risk being relieved of it.

The kitchen was silent and empty despite the late hour in the morning... or late at least in a way that Spock had come to know. He was used to rising well before the dawn now. He'd already been awake for nearly four hours and finished mucking out and rebedding the stable and all the livestock were fed.

But he could not bring himself to eat, he had even been unable to drink the tea he'd made for himself and let the heat go out of it until it was icy. No amount of touching the choker or bracelet eased the growing pool of tension in his stomach.

The young hybrid looked outwardly calm. But to those who knew him or others of his species he might as well have been in hysterics. His skin was paled, flesh twitching and pulling oddly and involuntarily. He unfolded and refolded his hands occasionally and more than once his booted feet slid across the floor into a new position. He was swallowing heavily and each breath tasted somewhat sour. He was unsure if he ate if he would be able to keep the meal down.

Spock plucked absently at the hem of his chocolate hooded sweatshirt sporting the green and white embroidery designs for the AQHA. The heavy, synthetic fleece warm against his skin but still felt to cold. Even his jeans felt like they were fitting oddly, to loose in some places and pinching in others.

The hybrid sighed silently before reached up and feathering a hand through his own hair the way Cody did, trying to simulate the comfort it caused him when made by the deaf rancher's hand but it was a poor imitation. He ruffed his hair in the same way that he often saw McCoy or Jim did. It was growing long, the ebony locks starting to creep over his ears and down the back of his neck and towards his eyes. It was ragged and slightly feral and starting to layer in small waves. He would have to seek a barber and have it cut, if he waited much longer he would risk having to tie it back in a pony tail the same way the Creek and Cokata kept their hair.

"Hi Spock."

He suppressed a flinch as the start the small voice caused him, only breathing softly out of his nose and flicked sable eyes to the side, catching the mossy green ones of Joanna.

The chid had slotted herself perfectly into ranch life. She was forever in a pair of jeans and often a tee shirt or a miniature flannel one, either her own or borrowed from Toweya. She walked and move confidently, ambling either a head of her father or on his heels. Overly excited to do chores or babysit the younger Pups in the house hold. She had yet to be allowed on a horse but was more than happy o take company with any of the pack of dogs that now roamed the house or yards. She had even volunteered to help making meals and was allowed to.

McCoy looked ready to burst with pride at his daughter's behavior and his normally volatile and aggressive nature was quelled so that he was nearly docile.

The doctor's child seemed to have taken a particular interest in Spock and Jim, possibly due to their professional relationship with her father or sought them out as secondary guardians as they were the ones that sat with her during the court proceedings. When she did not accompany her father she was often following in Jim's shadow or joining Suri in Spock's.

Joanna's hair was tied back into pig tails that bobbed as she skipped into the kitchen, sliding a little on the floor and bumping into Spock's side and hip as she stood at the kitchen table next to him. She beamed up at him and Spock wondered idly if McCoy had been much like this when he was a youth.

"Good morning Joanna." Spock responded quietly.

"Are ya excited 'bout goin' to the faire today? Jim said there'd be more horses 'n ponies than people there." The youngling chirped happily, rocking on her heels slightly.

The faire.

Spock turned his eyes back towards the mug and over seeped tea. He did not bother trying to explain to the child that Vulcan's do not feel excitement, though he was sure that she was bright enough that the concept of Surakian teachings would not necessarily go over her head.

He breathed out silently and his stomach rolled harshly and unpleasantly enough that his jaw ticked in a slight flinch. He shut his eyes and breathed deeply, soothing the ache in his core.

"What's wrong Spock?"

Joanna's voice held a familiar accusatory tone. He looked down at the child and while she looked innocent Spock knew better. Joanna's sense of observation and perception easily rivaled a Vulcan's own prowess. Behind those brilliant green eyes was a mind sharp and acute, a quick glance around the room and Joanna had taken in Spock's untouched tea, the cleanliness of the kitchen and the slightly muddied boots the hybrid wore. It didn't take much for her piece things together.

Spock hesitated, masking his pause with a deep, smooth breath that may have been the Vulcan equivalent of a yawn. "I am well Joanna."

She gave a skeptical twitch of her lips and huffed. "Doesn't look like ya ate nothin'? Yer stomach hurt or somethin'?"

The hybrid lifted an eyebrow at her and tipped his head slightly to the side. She studied him for a moment before she blinked slightly and some kind of idea must have dawned in her mind because for a moment her face lit in revelation then dumbed down until it was nearly somber.

"Are ya nervous? When I have to do presentations at school I get nervous and it's hard to eat anythin'." Joanna reasoned and leaned onto the table top, bending at the belly as she braced her torso on the wood surface and lifted her feet off the floor, kicking them slightly.

Spock watched this small display of acrobatics for a moment before speaking.

"What would prompt you to believe that my lack of consumption was due to some form of anxiety?"

"Cause yer supposed to get a horse today. That's why we're goin', right? 'Cause Jim and Miss Cody want to get winter prospects... ya know a couple little horses that they want to grow up over the winter and see what they can do... and yer supposed to get a horse... and Miss Cody said maybe I can get a pony if we find a good one."

Spock looked at her in silence, Joanna tilted her head around and pressed her cheek into the table and blinked at him slowly.

"'M a little nervous. I never had my own pony before. And a horse is way bigger than a pony so ya might be more nervous than me, but I'm smaller than ya so maybe because I'm gettin' a pony and yer gettin' a horse we're nervous 'bout the same... 'cept I want some cereal." Joanna reasoned, dropped back to the floor and padded over to the far counter and looked up at the cabinet that was stocked with dishes and glasses, bowls and mugs. She stood for a moment before climbing up onto the counter, bracing on her knees and reaching up into the cabinet. Spock quickly pushed himself to his feet and walked over. He carefully wrapped an arm around Joanna's waist and lifted her back to the floor before reaching into the shelves for a bowl.

"Can I have the blue one? It's my favorite."

Spock put back the brown ceramic bowl and retrieved the blue one. Before moving over to the catty corner counter and opening the shelves stocked with dry goods. Joanna following on his heels.

"The honey bunches... please."

Spock retrieved the box of cereal and carried it and the bowl to the table.

"Thanks." Joanna climbed into Spock's vacated seat while the hybrid retrieved a gallon of milk in the refrigerator.

"Joanna your observations are very astute but I must remind you that your father has no intention of purchasing a pony for you." Spock reminded gently while the child tipped the cereal into her bowl.

The youngling waved a hand and made a dismissive noise. "Details."

Spock perked an eyebrow. "It seems a significant one, Joanna."

She shrugged and took an over large mouthful of her cereal, chewing it awkwardly and folding her legs to sit cross legged in the chair.

"You are up very early." Spock said quietly as he lifted his mug from the table and moved to pour it into the sink. He glanced at the clock, noting hat it was crawling closer to the halfway point between seven and eight.

"Papa woke me up and cain't fall asleep again. He never goes back to sleep when he wakes up, no matter what time it is." Joanna sucked on her spoon before digging it back into the cereal.

Spock tilted an eyebrow upwards at the revelation but said nothing, washing his hands in the sink, patting them dry with a hand towel.

"Ya really should eat somethin'." The youngling advised sagely.

"Ya didn't eat?"

The child and hybrid looked up at the low rumble of a voice from the doorway as McCoy stalked into the kitchen. His jeans faded and form fitting while his torso was hidden under a heavy black hooded sweatshirt with grey and white lettering arched across the front reading _OLD MISS_. He was combing a hand absently through his hair.

"I am well." Spock assured.

"But ya didn't eat." McCoy crossed and dipped to press a kiss to the top of Joanna's head. She hummed contentedly.

"Doctor-"

"Ya rather have Miss Cody be the one force feedin' ya?" The medical officer prompted with a raised eyebrow. The hybrid narrowed his eyes before making a soft noise of dissent and moving towards the refrigerator and opened it, standing back for a moment before reaching in and pulling out a small sealed bowl of sliced, mixed fruit and took a fork from the ceramic container at the center of the table. While he started his own bowl of cereal, McCoy watched him warily until half of the fruit was gone and Spock took that as consent to abandon the food. He could already feel it churning oddly in his stomach, sucrose and sharp flavors attacking his systems unhappily.

Spock swallowed queasily and eased down into the chair across from Joanna. Trying to ignore her and her sire as they crunched their way through identical bowls of cereal. The sound and scents making his belly roll enough that Spock nearly excused himself when the back door swung open with a burst of cool air and the crisp scent of autumn, mountain and the drift of horse sweat and mud.

Cody and Jim slipped in with the three German Sheperds, Welsh Corgi and the albino fawn ambled in with them.

Nemo A534 shook himself soundly, a few dead leaves clinging to his fur shook loose and fell to the floor with soft crackle before the one eyed dog trotted over and laid his head into Spock's lap, pressing is nose flush into the hybrid's belly. Spock's hands fell on the dog's ears, threading his hands through the thick ruff of fur and skating his touch over the tips of the ear. The dog's large ears tipped up and the single brown eye looked up at him. The skin above his eye twitched and pinched slightly together, looking as if his brow was furrowing in concern.

The dog shifted forwards, pressing closer between Spock's legs. He whined softly, ears twitching back. Spock breathed out softly, looking down at the dog. His stomach tossed unhappily and the young hybrid bent until his forehead was pressed into the the dog's, cupping Nemo A534's face, skating one thumb over the scared and and sealed closed socket of his missing eye. A soft pulse of the Shepherd's mind smoothed across his own consciousness. The thoughts of the dog, like always, were muffled and hard to understand. Like they were being fed through a poorly constructed translator. More like impressions, raw feelings, feral and primitive than the clarity of a humanoid being, for the moment spinning around a central idea that Spock had come to understand was the dog's conception of himself. What Spock was, physically and immaterially, what his existence meant to Nemo A534 free floated in a mind far more complex and deep than any Vulcan before or after him would have credited to an animal, much less this singular, damaged dog. A dark silvery thread that wove in and out with other ones that were other labeled lives that Nemo A534 built his existence around. Spock was unsure what occurred when the German Shepherd focused his attention on another but when it was Spock's touch and focus the dog reciprocated that fine, silvery thread grew until it engulfed his consciousness and all his thoughts and impressions spun around it.

Spock's thumb skimmed over the closed, empty socket again, Nemo A534's impressions flaring to surface and clarity briefly. It pulsed and thrummed with concern, helpless confusion and a deep need to protect. Spock hesitated before drawing up the basest impressions of his own thoughts, trying to match the frequency before lightly impressing on Nemo A534 he was grateful and healthy.

Briefly he dog's singular eyes blinked and opened narrowly, as if trying to understand what was happening in his own mind. It was the first time that Spock had returned any kind of psychonic impression on to the dog. The animal was still under his hands, their foreheads still pressed together. He could feel the one eyed Shepherd mulling over what Spock had conveyed to him before he took a deep breath of Spock's scent and a kind of finalization or confirmation settled the dog's original impression.

The hybrid could try and impress ideas and concepts in Nemo A534's mind all he wanted but it would not take hold the same way that it would in a hominid's. The dog could read his body, draw the truth from the chemicals in Spock's scent and in the tension of his muscles.

A sigh rippled through Spock physically and mentally. He passed his fingertips a final time over the deep scars and sealed empty socket before straightening and sitting up right again. Nemo A534 snorted softly and shifted forward to keep his head firm in Spock's lap.

The dog's chocolate eye flicked up and over Spock's shoulder. The hybrid half turned to follow the dog's sight line.

Jim reached over the hybrid's shoulder and stroked the German Shepherd's ears. Nemo A534's tail swept back and forth lazily.

The blonde didn't speak but it soothed Spock's nerves a bit to have the other man so close to his shoulder. The same kind of silent concern hummed softly across Jim's skin where his elbow brushed slightly at Spock's collar.

Nemo A534 shut his eyes and huffed quietly.

"Want to bring him?" Jim asked.

"Would it not be a hinderance to be preoccupied with Nemo A534's whereabouts for the duration of the day?" Spock protested half heartedly.

"If he goes he has to go on a leash, anyway." Jim smiled slightly.

"I WANNA WALK HIM!" Joanna yelped, scrambling off her chair and dashing around Cody's legs and into the mud room. She reemerged a heartbeat later with a a six foot leather dog leash, linked to a large canine prong collar. She rushed over and fiddled with the collar before Jim relieved her of it and lightly clipped it into place around the German Shepherd's throat.

"C'mon Nemo!" Joanna turned and marched towards the front hall. The one eyed dog seemed to shrug before turning and following calmly on her heels well before the leash ran out of length. Kicking his pace up to a trot when Joanna broke into a skip.

"Guess its out of our hands now." Jim shrugged one shoulder and rubbed his knuckles across his nose.

Spock let out an over large breath, a kind of Vulcan sigh.

Jim swatted his shoulder lightly. "Come help me with the rig."

Spock rose obediently, reaching for his corduroy and synthetic fleece jacket and followed on Jim's heels out of the kitchen. Cody glanced at them, getting a quick string of signs from Jim assuring what they were doing before the deaf rancher nodded and eased into a chair next to McCoy at the otherwise empty table, sipping idly at a cup of coffee. Spock glimpsed her passing it over to share with McCoy as he ducked out the door.

The air was growing steadily cooler as the Terran year slipped away towards true winter. The Mountain and it's forests had started to change. The high pines and conifers stood still dark green while their deciduous neighbors were starting to change, the green bleeding out of their leaves and taking on hues of red and oranges, golds and browns. A new scent was drifting on the crisp, cool air, one that Spock had never experienced as his time on Earth had always been in a warmer climate.

There was cool, damp smell edged with a promise of true cold. The smell of earth drifting and mingling with a heady woody aroma, it tangled with a sugary scent of raw tree sap. From the wide mountain meadows and pastures came the scent of drying sweet grass and wildflowers in their last gasps before falling into their near death slumber for the winter. A gentler, easier brush of aroma compared to the heartiness of the woodland.

The bite at the edge of the air forced Spock to breath deeply, filling and stretching his lungs to a point they nearly ached, but it seemed a taboo to not fill his chest to capacity before letting it out. Spock mulled over the scents, everyday growing deeper and smoother, everyday the sugary flush getting more pronounced.

Though the cool of the air caused him some discomfort Spock found her preferred the scent of the peak woodlands and highland prairies to the balmy, salty breezes of the San Francisco bay.

He followed on Jim's heels across the yard towards the Big Horn Ram pickup truck and the air-ride.

The air-ride was as ancient as the Big Horn and the Durango and in just as good of shape. It was a six horse slant trailer, a bumper pull design that hitched directly into the ball bearing screwed into either the Big Horn or the Durango's bumpers. It was the largest other than a stock trailer that Cody owned, but she also had a four horse slant and a simpler, double straight trailers. The structure was massive, resting low bellied on six massive tires, a single axel towards the front and a double axel in the rear, it also rose to nearly three feet above the top of Spock's head. The smooth surface, only broken by the rounded heads of bolts and rivets, was painted a tawny that matched the truck but sported slender, rolling designs of russet stripes and on the fore quarters of ether side was the air brushed logo for the ranch. The russet medicine wheel, pinto and appaloosa horses facing each other, the red tailed hawk feathers and the ranche's name, location and contact information. Exactly the same design on the sandstone toned hooded sweatshirts that Cody and Jim and supposedly the rest of the Chicalato's owned.

There were six square windows along one side, each with a latched, barred port covering that were currently let down to rest against the side of the trailer, tied down to prevent from swinging or bumping. Spock followed Jim along the side of the still unhitched air-ride to the rear of the trailer. With well practiced moves the blonde easily unlocked the door and swung it open. Then he reached along the floor edge of the trailer, fiddled around with some unseen machinery before with a rattle of metal sliding on metal he pulled out a wide trailer ramp, he pulled it out to a certain length and angle before easing it to the earth.

Jim lightly leapt onto the ramp and bounded up into the trailer. As he went unlatching the slanted dividers and pushing them forwards to re-latch them against the wall. Each divider was like a stall wall, making a narrowed, buffered compartment for every horse loaded into the trailer.

Spock watched his progress dutifully until the last divider was secured. Jim backed out of the trailer and dropped to the earth with a soft grunt before running the ramp back up and locking the door back into place.

"Spot me." Jim commanded lightly and jogged around to the driver's side of the truck. He paused before Spock cloud ask and looked back. "I mean when the hitch links up tell me to stop. It'll make a 'clunk' noise."

"Very well." The hybrid assured and moved until he was standing next to the trailer's hitch and listened to the roar of the Big Horn's engine booming to life. Jim effortlessly reversed slowly towards the trailer and Spock, creeping along in near perfect alignment with the trailer.

Spock watched closely, the truck slowing even more and when the bumper and hitch coupled into place he lifted a palm and the Big Horn stopped dead and went quiet.

Jim bailed out and dropped to the earth with a new grunt, tossed his keys into the driver's seat and swung the door shut.

"Alright." Jim huffed. "The rig box is in the tack room. It's got hay nets and the road kit in there so if you grab that I'll haul out a couple bales."

"The way you have divided our efforts-"

"You're also getting the tack set we're taking and the tailgate chairs. The saddle is black one with no tooling on it. Thi... fourth from left. The bridle and saddle pad and everything should already be all together." Jim assured, steering the hybrid towards the stable barn and along the line of stalls. "But get the rig box first, it's in the middle of the floor, I pulled it out and checked the stock last night. So are the tail gate chairs. Bring it out to the truck bed."

Spock nodded and broke away from Jim to step into the tack and trophy room. As he'd said the large red container of plastic material was waiting for him in the center of the room, next to it were four tubes of canvas with black nylon straps for grips. Spock easily lifted the container, though he knew a human might have struggled with it and sidestepped his way out of the room and back into the aisle. Jim had tugged on his gloves and hauled a full bale of hay up against his chest and carried it up a head of Spock. Jim moved to the truck bed and with a grunt heaved the bale up and tossed it into the height. He huffed and staggered slightly before climbing up the rear wheel and into the bed. Spock strode up to the side of the truck and hefted the container up to him and blonde heaved the kit around and set it into the bed right up against the steel tool box stretched across the bed and pressed up against the cab.

Spock stepped back as the blonde dropped to the earth and walked with Jim to retrieve a second bale of hay to heave into the truck bed. The hybrid strode through the empty stable barn and ducked back into the tack room, hefting up all four tubes of russet fabric by their straps. Through the canvas Spock felt the unseen structure of plastic that would unfold into chairs.

Spock carried one over his shoulder and three in his hands, their weight minimal. He walked out to meet Jim as he tossed the second bale of hay and handed up the bundled chairs.

He backed off and made the third and final trip into the stable barn and stepped into the tack and trophy room, moving along the lines of saddles and tack until he picked out the simplistic black leather one perched on a stand fourth position down.

It was a common Western all around saddle, much like the one that Jim provided Spock with to use on Jeepers Creepers. Though it's material was true leather, not the synthetic kind that his borrowed saddle was made of. The saddle was unadorned, marred with scuffs and scars, obviously well used. There was a similar, simplistic bridle with a Quarter Horse bit and a light black and tan canvas and fleece saddle pad draped over the seat of the saddle.

Spock lifted the bridle and pad over one shoulder then lifted the saddle by the swell up against his hip and into the air. He balanced himself and started off at an awkward walk with the tack braced against his flanks. He carried the load dutifully out of the barn, matching up with Jim's stride as the blonde hauled a single bale of straw to go along with the hay in the truck bed.

Jim gasped slightly as he hurled the straw bale up into the truck bed. The blonde staggered and grabbed a hold of the side of the truck, bracing against it as he caught his breath and balance.

Spock stalled, staying close to Jim's side for a long moment, waiting. The Blonde puffed quietly for a moment before looking up and catching Spock's sable pools with his own cerulean eyes. He breathed out heavily and gave a slight twitch of his lips in an assuring smile and a twitch of his wrist in a dismissive wave.

Spock eyed him for a moment longer before waiting for the blonde to climb into the bed. Spock handed up the bridle and saddle pad, waiting for the blonde to store them appropriately before heaving up the saddle.

Jim took it and settled it over a hay bale, making sure that it would keep it's form through the ride. Jim hesitated to lift his arms above his head, linking his fingers and stretched, arching his back in a series of soft pops before relaxing again and dropping out of the truck bed next to Spock, tugging off his work gloves and tucking them into his back pocket.

"Is it truly the best intention to utilize the six horse trailer on this trip?"

"Well, there's your horse, then one for Joanna, Cody and I'll probably each pick up one, that's four right there and if Cody catches wind of a hard luck case there's no way we'll leave without it."

Spock's stomach turned over unhappily but he quelled it. "It is against McCoy's wishes for Joanna to obtain an animal."

"It's not like it's really going to be hers Spock." Jim reasoned with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Is not the doctor aware of this fact and not wary of why his daughter is present?"

"Because the main reason that Joanna's going is because if a horse is going to come here bombproof they need to be kid proof, and what better way to prove that a horse is kid proof than to put an excitable, inexperienced kid on 'em?"

Spock cocked an eyebrow into his hairline.

"And why shouldn't she have her own pony? All the Pups have horses or ponies. Toweya, Suri, the Twins, Matoha obviously doesn't have one for himself yet. Hell, we still have all three of Colt's horses."

Jim stalled for a moment, as if startled by his own admission.

Spock felt his own sympathetic pang of loss for the child he'd never known. "They are all gifted with a horse of some kind and they are boarded here?"

Jim snapped back to reality and the glaze over his blue eyes broke. He blinked, looking at Spock as if he was surprised to see the hybrid. "Uh... yeah. They're not old enough to compete in junior rodeo or horse shows yet but on holidays during the school year they come up and work with them and a good part of the summer they spent on the ranch and get trained to compete... you know. Carrying on with the tradition and everything. Toweya's a little hard handed, Magazu's got some speed fear issues and Maza rides better than both of them... Suri's really good but he's nervous about actually competing. I don't think he wants to and if he doesn't we're not going to make him... it'd be a shame though."

Jim shrugged his shoulders and tucked his hands into his jeans pockets.

"I have observed that Suri is a naturally shy individual and lacks some confidence in large groups. Is this the reason that he has anxiety concerning competition?"

Jim made an indecisive few jerks of his head. "That and if he did he'd be the first non-human to _ever_ compete."

Spock's brow furrowed. "Xenobiological species are no permitted to compete?"

"No." Jim shook his head. "It's not that. It's just so traditionally, you know, a human thing and there really aren't horses on other planets so it's just... never happened. I mean sure there's probably a good number of off-worlders that ride and have horses now but, well, no non-human has ever competed in novice or professional rodeo or equestrian sports. Just hasn't happened."

Spock's eyebrow twitched up towards his hairline. "And if Suri proceeded into competition he would be the first xenological species to do so?"

Jim nodded. "It's a big burden. I can understand why he might not want to take it."

Spock thought for a moment. Jim's brow knit together.

"I know that look... what're you thinking about, Spock?"

"That perhaps it would be wise to relieve Suri of that burden."

"Oh, wait Spock. It's years of training just to get to novice level. Rider and horse..." Jim's words trailed off before he sighed quietly and tilted his head back, looking towards the sky. "We'll talk about it."

Spock nodded, satisfied. More often than not when the words 'we'll talk about it' or some alteration of it slipped from Jim's lips it was a sign of already made resignation and defeat, a sign his will was bent to another.

Probability was very high that Spock's intentions would be followed out with the full force of Jim's expertise and support behind it.

They turned as the back door opened and Joanna bounded out, dressed in her denim and fleece jacket and her hands tangled around the leather lead connected to Nemo A534's prong collar. Her father close on her heels, one hand tucked into the _OLD MISS_ hooded sweatshirt, slung across his chest was the black and grey blue medic bag, it bounced quietly on his far hip.

Next to him walked Cody, her tan Stetson pulled low over her ears and sporting the Native Sky emblem hooded sweatshirt she was donning more and more often in the last few days. It was pulled low over her jeans. She had a miniature data pad clenched in her teeth and a canvas satchel settled over one shoulder and slung across her chest in a fashion similar to McCoy's medic kit. She kicked the door closed behind her.

Between her and the doctor suspended by their hands was a large red and white cooler container. By the way they were straining slightly it must have been heavy.

"Are none of the brothers or their families going to join us?"

Jim shook his head. "It's a sale and auction, nothing to keep the Pups busy and wrangling that many people without some kind of event is a hassle."

"Are they going to remain at the ranch until our return?"

Jim shrugged one shoulder. "They were going to drive over to the zoo but I pitched a fit so they said they'd put it off and we'll all go up to Great Falls zoo week after next on their last day before closing up for winter."

Spock's eyebrow lifted. "_You_ objected to this course of events?"

"I like the giraffes. What? It wasn't fair, they were going to go to the zoo without us."

"Are we not participating in an event without them?"

"...Obviously you've never been to a zoo or this wouldn't even be a discussion."

_**Hey, loaded up?**_

They turned towards Cody and McCoy as they set the cooler down on the earth. Nemo A534 and Joanna moved in to close up their small circle. She took the opportunity to extract the miniature data pad from between her teeth and slid it into the main pocket of the saddle bag, letting the flap swing shut on it's own.

"We got everything, Sis." Jim agreed, his hands twitching and translating his words into sign language.

_**Got identifications and credits?**_

Jim, Spock and McCoy each dug into a back pocket and lifted up two cards. McCoy and Jim their Sate identifications and Spock his Federation Identification. The second cards were each identical, a plain rectangle of blue plastic marked with their names, their Starfleet serial numbers, rank and small printed images of the Fleet's logo and symbol of the Federation. Debit cards connected directly to the accounts that Starfleet provided with their salaries.

They tucked the cards back into their jeans as Cody nodded.

_**Got your English tack?**_

"Damnit." Jim muttered, turned and sprinted towards the stable barn, ducking in and out of sight.

Spock lifted an eyebrow and looked towards Cody.

_**Winchester's starting to get old and he's due up for a dressage and event mount. He's got plenty of cow ponies.**_

Spock nodded in acceptance as Jim came jogging back with a set of simplistic English dressage tack draped over his arms. Jim awkwardly climbed onto the wheel and leaned over the wall of the truck bed and situated the other tack set on the hay bale next to the Western tack. He dropped back to the earth and rejoined their circle.

"Okay, now we have everything." Jim assured jovially. Cody rolled her eyes with a silent sigh before catching McCoy's attention and jerked her head towards the truck bed.

McCoy bent obediently and took up his end of the cooler with Cody and they stepped around, heaving the container up to balance on the edge of the wall. McCoy stood supporting it while Cody climbed up the rear wheel just as easily as Jim had, shoved a few things around the the truck bed before taking the full weight of the cooler and setting it into the bed before climbing back down on the far side and heading around towards the driver's seat. She tossed the keys up into the air, catching them again.

"You want shotgun?" Jim asked McCoy with a slight teasing tone.

The doctor looked at him passively. "Yeah, I do actually."

Jim blinked when the doctor stepped easily passed him towards the front of the truck cab.

"C'mon Nemo." Joanna chirped happily and the one eyed German Shepherd followed dutifully. Spock pulled open the rear door to the second row of seats in the cab.

"Thank ya Spock." She started to climb up the seat herself but struggled due to the height. Just the way that Spock had helped her down from the counter top Spock looped an arm around her waist and lifted the child easily up and set her onto the seat.

"Thanks again." Joanna smiled brightly at him and shifted around until she was kneeling on the seat. "C'mon Nemo!"

The German Shepherd looked up into the cab with cocked ears. Spock made to lift the dog as well but backed off when Nemo A534 backed up to nearly the end of his leash took a short stride and leapt into the seat with a grunt. It was a jump of nearly triple the dog's height.

Spock looked towards Jim. The blonde shrugged.

"He's the super dog."

The blonde jogged around to the other side of the truck and climbed in next to Joanna. Spock slipped in and settled himself into the seat, swinging the door closed. He tensed then relaxed when Nemo A534 laid down onto the seat and draped himself half into the hybrid's lap. Spock instinctively fell to stroking the dog's ears as Cody kicked the engine into life, everyone pausing a moment to fasten their seat belts.

"Hey. Bones, put on the radio. Anything Blues."

McCoy distractedly complied most of his attention fixed on a data pad in his lap, flipping the radio over until it bubbled to life and filled the space of the cab with the warm and easy tones of ancient Terran music that Spock knew comprised most of the hard drive of Jim's laptop.

Cody spurred the truck into movement, lugging the trailer behind and pulled onto the long drive, then the small roads of Darby before pulling onto State Highway 93. Within twenty minutes they had all settled into their places, the Big Horn was roaring along the highway like a disgruntled predator compared to the small sleek, more modern personal vehicles crowding around them. The rhytmic hum of the engine and tires on the asphalt was soothing and Spock relaxed back, stroking Nemo A534's ears.

"Papa?"

McCoy instantly yanked his attention away from the data pad and looked at her. Joanna quirked up her eyebrows. That seemed enough.

"Hang on darlin'." He turned back and dug into Cody's canvas satchel, he came up with a full sized personal data pad and a stylus, handing them back. The only difference between it ad McCoy's was the shell of the device was a pale, powder blue and had Joanna's name drawn in permanent ink all over the surface.

"Thanks Papa." She scooped up the objects, crossing her legs in her seat and setting it in her lap. A wise idea to keep Joanna occupied. Spock knew that Jim's and his own data pads were also tucked into the satchel for later claiming. A well needed distraction as the trip to their destination was going to be several hours in the making.

They were heading north along the spine of the Rocky Mountains. But that was the extent of Spock's knowledge of their destination.

"Jim."

The blonde looked up at him, eyebrows lifted.

"Were is our journey end exactly?"

"Polson."

Spock's brow knit. "Pardon?"

"Polson. Montana. It's on the south bank of Flathead Lake in what used to be the Flathead Native Reservation."

"Used to be a Native Reservation?" Spock's head cocked to the side.

Jim nodded then licked his lips. "Its still a Res but it's not Flathead anymore... Salish, Kootenai and Pend d'Oreilles tribes, the ones that made up the Flathead Nation have pretty much died out. It's mostly _Niitsítapi_ now... um Blackfoot."

"I was unaware that the reservations Native tribes were relocated to still existed."

Jim made a slight face. "They still exist."

Spock allowed the conversation to die all together and focused on stroking Nemo A534's ears and the scars across his face and muzzle. He sensed the dog starting to drift asleep and after a few long moments Spock looked over at Jim again. The blonde had settled easily against the door and was dozing, his breath making puffs of vapor spread across the glass. It melted away in the comfortable heat of the cab as quickly as it grew against the colder window.

"Doctor, may I make a request for the data pad in Cody's satchel."

The older human didn't respond, only dug into the bag and pulled out the wanted item, handing it back over the seat.

"Thank you."

"Sure Spock." McCoy still sounded distracted and Spock watched as the doctor lightly reached over and tapped Cody's knee to catch her attention. She looked around at him as McCoy made a few, less than fluid signs with one hand and Cody responded.

The hybrid turned his attention to the surface of the data pad, swiftly drawing up some long over due reading of a reciently published paper concerning new developments in String Theory.

Spock swiftly lost himself in the reading, his psyche soothed by the simple contact with Nemo A534 across his lap and mind busy with working out the mathematical possibilities proposed in the editorial.

He was brought back to the present when Nemo A534 sat up sharply, nearly knocking the data pad out of his hands. Spock shifted as the dog moved himself around to a more comfortable position to make more room for Jim and Joanna. The blonde had twisted around in his seat until is back was against the door, legs awkwardly folded over the seat and Joanna curled up in his lap sleeping. Her head draped across Jim's sternum. The blonde twisted a little more for a moment before settling for the least amount of strain on his back he could achieve and looked up at Spock. He offered a sloppy half smile. His eyes half lidded and mucky with sleep, obviously having taken the time to allow his doze to deepen.

"You alright Spock?" Jim asked quietly, his voice braiding easily with the low, thrumming tones of the Blues music still filling the air space of the cab.

"I am well." Spock assured.

"We shouldn't be too far off, now." Jim said, twisting awkwardly to look into the front seat of the cab and catch sight of the radio console. He did a swift calculation in his mind. "Forty five minutes. We'll be there early."

Spock nodded in agreement and shut down his data pad. He took stock of his surroundings. Cody still looked alert and focused on the road. McCoy seemed to drifted off at some point and was curled up against the door. Nemo A534 sat with his head up and ears perked, Joanna was a sleep and Jim looked drowsy but growing steadily more awake. Spock looked outside of his window.

The season was slightly more advanced further north. The colors brighter and deeper in the trees and the grass had dried out and turned into rolling waves of gilded blades. Where it was scrub under growth and rocky earth the flora had started to dry and lose their leaves. Occasionally the landscape was broken up by a long line of barbed wire or meshed fencing and a small farm home. Sometimes a few head of cattle or a lone horse paced inside of enclosures. The spine of the Rocky Mountains rose into purple summits on either side of what seemed to be a valley. Their jagged edges softened and smoothed by low cloud cover and peaks almost lost entirely into the height.

As the morning had wore on a heavy darkened sky and low cloud cover over cast the mountains and rolling high land grasslands.

Spock breathed easily, watching the world spin by quietly. Contemplating the returning tightening and churning in his gut. The ache he'd been feeling all morning had dampened while distracted with reading had returned now that his selfawareness fell back into place. It tightened into a large knot and started to spawn off into a gnarled and twisted braid that started to tangle around his innards and core.

His bicep twitched when a light touch skated over it. He twisted as Jim's had settled on his collar bone, squeezing gently through the layers of fabric before sliding off and settling on the back of the seat over his shoulder. The hybrid relaxed, though the unpleasant burn in his core did not.

Spock tried to sooth the inner turmoil and when it failed to calm under his attention he tried to compartmentalize it, try to decipher it's origins and control it.

He didn't need to try, he knew the reason for it's existence.

A horse.

Some phantom equine that was still unmade of flesh and blood, only ideals and promises and notions that seemed far out of his reach or true design. A shadow that was supposed to be his horse. Not his horse in the sense of a well matched and easily cooperative mount.

It was meant to be _his horse_.

Though Jim had tried to assuage this thought since he'd announced the horse fair and their intentions of attending. Tried to assure that they were only looking for that well matched and easily cooperative mount, that Spock should be looking for what was good for him, a sound foundation to build from.

That Spock was not trying to find _Mitawa Sukawaka_

He knew this was the wisest course, to concede the search for something so strong for the moment... though he did not wish too.

The connection the ideal suggested rivaled the Vulcan urge to seek out _t'hy'la. _The part of his soul that reigned human protested and wailed the injustice of it. Why was the Vulcan allowed to seek out those ancient bonds while it's own need was neglected? It thrashed and kicked and lashed out viciously at Spock's pooling nausea in retaliation. Before, bristled and sweated into a lather, wheeled sulkily away.

Spock blinked and felt his belly roll over again at the internal battle. His logic hissing softly at the restlessness, his humanity snorting mutinously. The hybrid tried to breath deeply and sooth his roiling stomach and only succeeded in making it tighten, adding a new knot to the braid tangled around his core.

He let his eyes fall shut and swallowed heavily.

Jim's hand instantly settled on his collar bone again, the blonde's observational skills and innate sense to read other beings to a point it could be considered empathic coming into play. The cooler touch of the human sending a ripple of comfort through him and his stomach stilled momentarily.

Jim squeezed his shoulder gently, thumb dipping into his collar bone absently. Spock waited in silence, bracing for when the contact broke and he was left to deal with his ailment alone.

The moment never came.

Jim's hand stayed a soothing, steady weight on his shoulder passed the moment that they drove into the reservation town marked with a large sign _Welcome to Polson, Montana and Flathead Lake; Population 5,347_. They skirted around the edges of the community but not so far off that they could not see deeper into the structure of Polson.

The small town was much like Darby in nature though larger, a network of paved or gravel and dirt packed streets, the main ones lined with store fronts, the structures of police station and city hall, post office and primary and secondary schools and other state supported businesses at focal points of the town. Parking spaces were occupied by older personal transports of pick up trucks or jeeps and the occasional battered sports utility vehicle. As the streets stretched outwards they became occupied by small houses and fences yards, sometimes with the remains of small gardens. Then stretched on to the larger farm steads they had been driving through for the last hour or more.

The town was busy, citizens collected outside of store fronts or leaned over each others fences to speak to neighbors working in their yards.

Almost the entirety of the population that Spock glimpsed had the same physical characteristics. The same dark tawny pallor and black hair much in the same way that the Chicalatos did. Occasionally he glimpsed someone with a fairer skin tone or brown or sandy colored hair and at one point he sighted a group of teenagers loitering outside of a soda shop with their hair died an array or dark reds, blues and greens. But their general physical attributes adhered to what Spock knew was the genome result for an individual of Native American decent.

But, just as Spock could not decipher where most humans of other nationalities came from, he could not see what it was that made these people Blackfoot or Flathead tribe apart from Lakota Sioux that Cody and the Brotherhood were, though he was positive that Jim could. The hybrid was not deterred, were their roles reversed it was unlikely that Jim would be able to tell individuals from one House of Vulcan from another by sight alone.

They looped around the outside of the community and followed the land dip towards the edge of the lake. The edge of the city broke into a kind of stock yard. There was a large metal, open ended barn and next to it was a large dirt packed arena closed off by red pipe fencing and either side were a series of benched stands. On the near side of the arena was a series of interlocked pipe fencing that made rows and rows of square pens.

Around the edges of the stretch of enclosures in scattered lines of trees were lines of parked pick ups, a good number set off by themselves and hitched to trailers of different sizes and types and half curled around set up chairs occasionally occupied by an individual.

It was still early in the morning so Spock was now certain that the habit of early rising was universal in equestrians, the area was crowded even more than the small town had been. Though the range of ethnicities had widened from the Native American population. People were dressed majorly in jeans and jackets, ball caps or Stateson hats pulled down to shade their eyes, They wandered seemingly aimlessly through the rows of pens or hung on the edges of the area, while they looked lazy and disinterested their eyes were sharp and alert.

Their focus all the same.

Horses.

Every one of the pens was occupied by one or more horses, there were horses tied to railings or to the side of parked trailers. Some were saddled, others were penned in without halters. There were a few animals being put through their paces in the area, ridden bareback or under Western or English saddles and a large bay gelding at one end was being lunged in a clockwise circle on a long line.

Cody slowed down as someone with the words _Annual Polson Horse Sale and Auction_ printed across the front of her tee shirt and ball cap walked up towards them. A radio on her hip and her eyes occupied by sunglasses and her brown hair tied back in a pony tail.

"Hey, drive down towards the lake and circle up a bit, anywhere there is fine."

Cody read the woman's lips easily and nodded before rolling the Big Horn back into movement and bumped along softly towards the lake shore before swinging to the right and rolling passed several parked vehicles and started back up the slope towards the arena and steel barn. Cody moved along slowly but shifted around towards a cluster of trees, twisting the truck precisely until it and the trailer was shaded but not trapped by the cluster.

"Perfect spot." Jim said quietly as Cody killed the engine, gently rousing Joanna. She mumbled incoherently and blinked slowly. "We're here Joanna."

She sat up and looked around before shrieking loudly and half launching herself at her sire. "Papa! Get up!"

McCoy jerked, slamming his head against the glass with a resounding thud. The doctor yelped, crouching down and wrapping hands around his skull, his eyes watering.

"Sorry Papa." Joanna chirped before scrambling over Jim's lap to get out, snagging the leash and tugging Nemo A534 after her. They dropped to the earth with a grunt, tumbling into the grass and bounding towards a tree.

"You okay Bones?" Jim asked, trying to hide his laughter in a concerned tone. McCoy snarled something wasn't Standard and flinched when Cody reached out and lightly pulled his hands away from his skull, stroked his hair, checking the growing lump on the side of his temple. McCoy heaved out a sigh and docilely turned his head for her to see better.

Jim glanced at Spock with quirked lips before climbing out of the truck to monitor Joanna. Spock watched him stretch, lifting his arm up, linking his fingers and arching his back and clearly enjoying the pull and strain of the muscles.

Cody dug into the medic bag and extracted a hypospray and a vial of painkillers and anti-inflammatory. She loaded the hypospray carefully, clearly trying to balance what she was used to giving to a horse compared to a humanoid's needs, then administered it into McCoy's throat with a soft hiss. The doctor flinched but made no more protest and thanked her in sign.

Spock cocked an eyebrow but did not comment. It was logical that even medical professional would need aid at times.

Spock unlocked and slid out of his door and shut it, taking a moment to follow Jim's example and roll his muscles around, finding numb spots and bringing them back to life. Spock breathed out, slightly soothed by the ease of physical tension.

The air here was freshened in a different way, cleaned and crisp from being blown lightly across the surface of Flathead Lake. It was the largest natural body of water this far northwest. Spock looked down passed parked vehicles where the earth dipped in a gentle slope before rolling down to meet the water's edge in a shallow, rocky shore. The water went on out in a sheet of dark glass to meet the horizon, only broken by the rise and fall of Mission peaks of the Rockies and jutting sandbanks that held steady enough for large plant life, including trees to take root.

Vulcan, as it had been before it's decimation, had been a desert. Water systems few in number outside of the reach of one of three large, shallow oceans. Spock's young rearing in Shi'Khar, a metropolis on the edge of one of these oceans and his time at Starfleet on the edge of San Francisco Bay, he had been exposed to the waterfronts of the salty and warm waters and icy depths of the Pacific and found nothing that enraptured his attention in the ways that Terran poetry and sonnets claimed he should have.

And while he was not enamored with Flathead he found himself drawn more to this smaller body than he had either ocean of earlier experiences. The stillness and quiet, water only rippling when a shore bird skimmed to low, it was soothing.

Cody and McCoy slid out of the truck cab, leaving the medic kit and satchel on their seats, each also taking a moment to stretch and pull their muscles. McCoy grunted and gingerly rubbed his skull but the swelling had already stopped and looked to be receding just as quickly as it had blossomed.

"Joanna, don't go off just yet darlin'. Wait for us." McCoy called.

"Yes, Papa!" Joanna was bounding between the trees with Nemo A534 in tow. Cody lightly climbed up into the truck bed, motioning the three males close before heaving up the cooler and handing it down. Spock and McCoy each took a hold of a handle and pulled it down together. The weight was significant and the hybrid allowed McCoy to direct him, setting the cooler some bit away from the truck and trailer.

Cody handed down the chairs to Jim who tossed them a few feet before taking the next one. Next the saddles, bridles, and rig box were handed down before Cody tossed the two bales of hay and the bale of straw. She followed, dropping to the earth with a silent grunt and rolled her shoulders before taking up one of the chairs stripping it from the canvas tube and stretching it out into form before starting on the next one. In a matter of a few minutes a small camp of sorts had been set up. The four chairs half circled around the cooler in the shade of the trees and lee of the truck and trailer. The saddles and tack had been set back across the straw bale. The two hay bales set to curve on the far side of the cooler and nearly made a closed circle, offering more seating and a kind of perimeter.

"Spock, help me get the temporary up." Jim urged and led the hybrid away while Cody and McCoy repacked their medic bag and satchel from the scattered things in the cab.

The blonde led the way around to the far side of the air-ride where the underside of the trailer was occupied by a mounted rack. In the rack was a stack of light weight, pipe fence pieces. At their backs there was a low rumble of another truck and horse trailer pulling up into place not to far away from their space. Jim snapped the restraints clear and motioned for Spock to take one end of the stack while he handled the other.

They awkwardly slid the stack of fence pieces out and Spock allowed Jim to steer him back around to the lee where they had made their camp and eased the pieces to the grass. Between them the pieces were sorted, locked together with snaps and dove tailed metal links then anchored to the side of the air-ride. Making a temporary round pen in the lush, lake fed grass and shaded by the trees; it was big enough for a few horses to lounge and graze comfortably in its perimeter.

"There. Just like home." Jim smiled and shrugged a shoulder.

"J. Tiberius!"

Jim's head snapped around so hard Spock almost heard his neck crack. Jim winced but fought through it.

"Asher!"

A man of a like build to Jim's own frame was trotting towards them. His hair was ebony black, shaved on the sides but grown long in the front and down the back in a pony tail, skin tawny, another member of the Native bloodline. He was wearing jeans and a red flannel shirt under a black windbreaker. His neck was heavy with a wide collar of meal and bone beads and a similar strand was braided into the length of hair.

"Hey Asher!" Jim met the man in a fierce embrace that involved palms thudding on shoulders before they separated, smiling widely. Spock tensed and straightened himself. For the first in a long time folding his hands behind his back and fingering the jet stone bracelet around his wrist.

"Lookin' good J. Tiberius. What happened? Got dizzy spinnin' 'roud all those planets and come to yer senses?" Asher crowed. "Back for good?"

"Sorry Asher. 'Captain Kirk' just sounds so good."

Asher wolf barked a laugh, scrubbing a hand across his eyes.

"Spock, this is Asher Rollins. He does a little barrel racing... still?"

Asher shrugged. "More trainin' than runnin' these days."

Jim grinned and motioned towards Spock. "Asher this is my First Officer Spock... Grayson. Spock Grayson."

"Forgot his name there for a minute J. Tiberius?" Asher teased and lifted a friendly wave to the hybrid. "Nice to meet ya Spock."

"Greetings Mister Rollins."

Asher whistled and made a face at Jim. "Very proper."

"Not all of us to could be raised in a mud pit like you were, Asher." Jim dodged a playful swing from the other man. Spock tensed even more so, his entire frame jerking minutely once as if intending to lash out at Asher for the violence. Jim noticed and backed off a little to stand closer to the hybrid than Asher. Spock relaxed minimally.

"What're you doing down here Asher?"

"It's the last big sale of the year without heading south, J. Tiberius, got a couple of my proteges down here checkin' out prospects and they wanted my approval on their picks."

Jim snorted and shook his head.

"I know." Asher sighed. "Still don't get it yet."

"I misunderstand the disagreeable aspect of seeking the approval of a more expertise eye on such a matter." Spock cocked his head to the side.

"_Advice_. You want _advice_ on a pick or what you should look for. Not _approval_. When you take up a horse it should be because _you_ approve of it, not someone else. It's your choice."

Spock had the distinct notion that Jim was impressing something important to him and logged the wisdom away.

"Speakin' of, I better get back to tryin' to straightenin' 'em out."

"Good luck." Jim said sarcastically. Asher huffed and grinning lifted his hand as he turned and walked off.

"See ya 'round the pens, J. Tiberius."

"Bye Asher." He huffed and smiled up at Spock. "That was fun... uh, sorry about your name, Spock."

"It seems it is customary to take altered names in the equestrian culture. Altered... but no less true... J. Tiberius." Spock reasoned.

Jim shrugged sheepishly. "It's what my show records all say under 'competitor's name'."

The hybrid nodded in acceptance. Pausing for a moment before speaking. "I am not adverse to taking my mother's maiden name in similar practice."

Jim gave a soft quirk of his lips then looked around as Cody, McCoy, Joanna and Nemo A534 strode towards them. The lump on McCoy's temple was gone, he stood at his full height and looked nearly noble standing at Cody's flank, his medic kit on his hip and hands tucked into the _OLD MISS _hooded sweatshirt front pocket.

Joanna had some how gained a kind of temporary adult level of maturity, standing up straight and calm with the leather leash shortened up to keep Nemo A534 close to her side, one hand keeping the main tension in the lead, it was slack across her chest and the other hand occupied by the bulk of the lead in a coil.

_**Ready to look around?**_

Jim and Spock nodded in agreement. Cody jerked her head towards the rows on rows of pens and took the lead. In a few steps Joanna and the one eyed Shepherd trotted to take her place while her sire took up his position on Cody's left flank. Spock and Jim fell in behind, the walk leisurely as they wove through parked trucks, scattered humans going to and from the faire and personal transports then onto an open stretch of sloped grass and on towards the steel barn, arena and cluster of pens. Spock kept half his focus on the blonde next to him but most of his attention was already scanning over the occupied pens.

Another volunteer staff member wearing the same tee shirt and ball cap offered Cody a strip of paper that detailed the timed events of the sale.

Jim was scanning the area around then just as diligently as Spcok was.

"Alright, Spock. What are you looking for?" Jim as at they moved along to outside of the first column of penned animals, standing along with a few other potential buyers or sellers. Their backs at the arena and all the goings on there ignored.

Jim cast his eyes idly over the first small, chestnut Quarter Horse to their left. The animal sported a loop of nylon cord around his neck with a number tag, all the animals bore one for temporary identification. The horse looked back at Jim lazily but returned to his doze in a few moments.

"A healthy animal, sound of body." Spock said as they moved to the next pen. Occupied by two yearling colts tussling, nipping at each other.

"Right so if someone catches your eye we'll do a lameness test." Jim nudged Spock back as the third horse in the row, a tall, black Quarter Horse Cross was led out of the pen with a halter by it's current owner. A tiny woman immediately set to work feeling the animal all over before having the handler walk the horse down the aisle, people shuffling out of the way and watching closely as the horse was turned in several tight circles then trotting back.

"Like that." Jim urged Spock to follow him on away from the black horse being tested to the next few pens. They rejoined Joanna and Nemo A534 and Spock cast his eyes back over his shoulder to see Cody and McCoy lingering a little longer for the black horse.

"Alright, what else?" Jim prompted, he stood up straighter as some commotion of noise rose from near by but settled again.

"Lookit that one Jim." Joanna lead Nemo A534 over to a pen where a pretty, white pony was being appraised by several other small girls. The blonde and hybrid followed dutifully and stood diligently near the eight year old and German Shepherd.

"A creature of intelligence."

"They're all intelligent Spock, It's just that some of them get trained to be mindless for too long." Jim corrected quietly and cocked his head down at Joanna and Nemo A534 as they returned.

"He didn't have any spots." The girl shrugged and took the lead before them again. She kept their slow and casual pace.

Spock side stepped around a tall bay gelding tacked in a Western saddle and tied to an outer railing of the arena. He paused to look the animal over. The animal was a reddish brown base coat, sported a small white marking between his eyes and low white sock on his left rear hoof, slim but solidly built and somewhere near seventeen hands. The horse seemed to sense he was being watched and twitched his ear then whole head around. They looked at each other for a long moment before the gelding nickered softly and Spock took it as some kind of permission to approach.

The hybrid offered the back of his hand to the gelding. The bay sniffed dutifully at it before sighing, sending a wash of moist, warm breath over his wrist, brushing the egde of his lips over Spock's knuckles.

The faint brush of the gelding's mind was calm, like smooth water, but pricked with curiosity, as intrigued by the hybrid as he was the horse. Spock stood back and looked the animal over carefully, noting any faded scar or disfigurement, of which there was nothing major.

The gelding seemed to watch him just as closely, occasionally lifting his head to look into the arena but always returning his gaze to Spock.

"He's pure Morgan. Registered. Him and both his sire and dame."

Spock half turned to a grey haired woman in a blue tee shirt and jeans.

"Bred him out myself. He's little too beefy for harness or hunter seat but he does alright with Western stuff." She glanced at Spock and her smile faltered at the sight of his ears and eyebrows, she stiffened. Spock straightened himself up.

"May I inquire as to his age and medical history?"

She blinked slightly startled before launching into a short, obviously rehearsed speech. Her voice was stilted and slightly hostile. "He's about six, nothing major medical wise. He's up to date, all his Coggins and blood work. Never been real sick. He has some trouble with muscle strains in his right rear."

"I expect that a reoccurring perchance to injury has barred his ability to compete professionally?"

"Uh... yeah actually... don't get many off worlders that know their horses."

Spock straightened even more and regarded her coolly. "While my knowledge of the equine culture and world is limited and minor compared to those who have been involved far longer than I it is not lacking."

She looked slightly startled by his deadpanned voice. The bay gelding perked his ears and sniffed in Spock's direction.

"What's got your attention Spock?" Jim and Joanna slid up to his side.

"A bay Morgan gelding." Spock responded.

"He's pretty." Joanna hummed and hugged Nemo A534 around the throat. The large dog barked softly and the bay returned a nicker.

"Morgan huh?" Jim ran his eye over the gelding before flicking his eye to the woman. "Hey. J. Tiberius Kirk."

"Monica Hill." She took his offered hand.

"Howdy Miss Hill. This is Joanna and Nemo and you've already met Spock Grayson."

"According to Miss Hill this animal is unfit for his breed's typical use though he medically sound and current at the age of six with a perchance to straining muscle groups in his right rear quarter. She claims to be responsible for his breeding and I assume much of his training."

"... yeah..." Hill said carefully. "Yeah. I broke him myself when he was two."

Something harsh flickered in Jim's eyes before it passed.

"He seems attentive and intelligent." Spock continued, now that Jim was involved he favored his attention to the blonde instead of the woman.

Jim hummed and moved forwards, offering his palm. The bay snorted and sniffed his fingers.

"Is he going in the ring?"

"A girl earlier wanted to give him a little work out." Hill responded.

Jim hummed and walked around the gelding, his eyes silver and watching every breath and twitch move through the animal.

"Spock you want to give him a once over?"

The hybrid moved forwards and lightly ran the back of his hand down the gelding's neck, across his chest and down a fore leg, coaxing him to lift his hoof. The horse obeyed casually and didn't flinch away from his touch as it ran over his belly, down the rear leg, asking for the hoof before trailing up to his tail. Spock repeated the light examination over the far side and once he was finished rewarded the gelding for his patience with a stroke of his palm down his muzzle.

"He seems fit and well exposed to physical contact." Spock settled his hands into the small of his back. His attention twitched over as McCoy and Cody slid up, Joanna and Nemo A534 bounding over and leaving the gelding to Jim and Spock alone.

The blonde was watching Spock as closely as he was the bay.

"What do you figure, Spock?"

The hybrid half turned and ticked an eyebrow slightly, sure his communication came across when Jim nodded.

"Yeah... I reckon... alright. Miss Hill if you've still got a hand on him around one this afternoon you willing to let us throw a leg over?" Jim asked.

"Don't see why not. I'll meet you here at one." She motioned towards the arena.

Jim nodded. "If you can give him a rest before."

She nodded and took his hand a second time before Jim ushered Spock to move on and rejoin the rest of their small group.

They walked a bit before Cody started to sign in the air. The rest of their group and many around them turned their attention aside when another burst of chaotic noise rose from a row or so over of pens. It settled after a moment and they turned their attention back to the deaf rancher.

_**What's the story?**_

"Good horse... owner's not someone I'm keen to meet repeatedly. She was giving Spock a little trouble." Jim signed and spoke.

Cody narrowed her eyes.

"The personal views of others are none of my concern, including those that pertain to my heritage. Especially in a professional or business setting. I will not allow the preferences or personal feelings of another interfere with my actions." Spock assured regally. "The Morgan was an interesting animal."

Jim huffed, still looking slightly put out but he didn't protest.

"Higher road and all that aside, Spock. There's somethin' to be said for bein' puttin' someone in their place." McCoy growled but mellowed when Cody touched his elbow.

_**I like the way you think, sugar. Go on and do it how you think you should.**_

"Thank you, Cody."

_**I'll take care of anyone else like that.**_

Jim grinned, clearly satisfied that the situation was under control, at Spock. He seemed almost smug and Spock carefully kept his emotionless mask in place in retaliation. It didn't stop Jim from snorting softly.

"Anyway, the bay's number was 779. Going to give him a light work at one." Jim signed his words. Cody nodded and dug into her satchel and pulled out the pocket sized data pad and used a stylus to pull up a spread sheet document. She easily marked down the number, a short description and the time Jim had allotted to work the Morgan.

_**Alright. The Morgan. One prospect. Anyone see anything else yet?**_

She was met with negative gestures. She shrugged and tucked the data pad away as they resumed their slow walk. The crowd of the faire seemed to remain at a lull, easy to navigate and pause for long moments before penned animals and look them over.

"Okay Spock. You did pretty good with the Morgan. What else are you looking for. You said health and brains. What else?"

They paused to look at an over weight grey Quarter Horse cross that was more than happy to take treats from anyone that offered.

"Preferably an animal that does not outwardly display poor habits or dangerous behaviors."

"Alright. Good manners and safe." Jim agreed and they looped around the end of the first column and into the second where there were occupied pens lined up on either side of the aisle. "Keep going."

"A physically attractive animal is not a necessity."

Jim laughed lightly and hesitated at a right hand pen where a large, lean pale chestnut warmblood was standing at the back of her pen. She had a wide white blaze and four tall white socks, markings the looked something like Jeepers Creepers. Jim moved over to stand close to the pipe fencing. The warmblood turned her attention to the side and eyed Jim warily. The blonde softly whistled and clicked his tongue. The pale chestnut jumped slightly, ears swaying and making an anxious noise, muscles tense.

"Easy sis." Jim soothed. "C'mon over here."

The warmblood pricked her ears and sucked in a breath.

"C'mon baby. Come see me." Jim coaxed.

The nervous mare shifted slightly before gingerly walking towards them, pausing every few steps and eyeing them before Jim urged her forwards again and she moved closer. Her steps were light and tense, as if she was walking on broken glass but once she was close enough she stretched her neck to it's end to sniff at Jim, still to far to be touched.

"Sis. Come over here." Jim pressed gently, still unmoving except to keep his eyes on the mare.

The warmblood closed the last few feet to stand close to the bars and twisted her head sideways to stretch through the piping towards Jim's pocket.

"Hey baby." Jim hummed and very slowly pulled his hand free from the pocket, not without making the mare twitch and offered it to her. The mare snuffled at his hand, nickering softly in his palm before she pressed her whole frame flush against the barrier between them. Clinging as best she could to Jim through the gap. Jim carefully moved in, trying not to make her more agitated than she was and laid his hand on her shoulder through the bars.

The pale chestnut made a noise that almost sounded like a whine.

"Nervous huh?" Jim soothed. "That's okay... it's okay. It's fine. I don't care. That's another thing Spock."

The hybrid twitched his attention to the side, if he had not been watching closely he would have missed when Jim turned his attention to himself. His voice stayed low and soothing. "What you see them doing here in the pens doesn't mean that they're like that all the time. Might give you an idea of what they're like when under pressure but I can tell you that this mare here isn't this nervous twenty four seven."

The pale chestnut had started to relax a little.

Jim gave her a light stroke of his hand before backing off. "Bye baby."

The mare whipped her head around, staring at Jim as the blonde retreated. She whinnied shrilly and pressed against the pipe fencing. Jim looked back at her but kept walking. The mare spun in place, pacing up and down the near side of the fencing and whinnied in distress again. Jim sighed and turned around, starting back. The warmblood calmed instantly, shoving her head through the gap of piping to touch Jim.

"Looks like you've got her number there, friend." A short, rounded formed man huffed. His hair was wiry grey and sticking up in all directions. He was dressed in jeans and a button down shirt. "Be the first time anyone did. Cain't do a thing with her, she's too high strung. But she sure it pretty to look at. Cain't even tell what she is, figure she's Thoroughbred."

Jim nodded absently before half twisting and offering his hand. "J. Tiberius Kirk."

"Marve Tucker."

"She takes a saddle?"

Tucker scoffed. "When she wants."

Jim's jaw ticked slightly. "Mind if I try and work her out say 'round one thirty?"

Tucker shrugged. "You can try."

"Meet me in the arena then." The blonde smoothed his hand over the flighty mare's shoulder a final time before stepping away. The mare panicked, trying to call him back before bolting to the back of her pen and staying well away from anyone else that approached.

"Thoroughbred my ass. That was an Oldenburg." Jim sighed and pinched his nose bridge. Spock allowed the blonde to think without his input. Jim was nearly vibrating with agitation, he'd hid it well from the mare.

He shook himself and calmed when Cody, McCoy, Joanna and Nemo A534 had turned back towards them.

"Hey, Sis. Put down for one thirty pale chessy Oldenburg. Nervous with capital 'nerves' the number was 251."

Cody's eyebrows tilted up slightly but she kept any comment to herself and marked it down on her data pad. Then jerked her head to usher them along the aisle. Pausing from time to time.

"Let's review." Jim said at length as they stood before an empty pen, though he was clearly agitated now. Two less than ideal experiences immediately after one another had quickly taken a toll of Jim's previously bright mood. "Health, brains, good manner, safe, don't care what they look like."

"I should not take to fact the first impression an animal would make in this setting is not ideal for a true understanding of their character."

"Right. If you could do it the right way you're supposed to look at a horse for a while, three days or more, get a feel for them. Buying in a place like this you have to be really experienced." Jim shrugged a shoulder and Spock nodded.

The sound of flesh colliding with metal at high velocity resounded with a sickening clang and slap. Jim leapt back and Spock staggered, whirling around towards the violent noise.

The pen on their right rattled as the animal behind it continued to put pressure on the piping, thrashing wildly. The horse shrieked through the fencing before whirling with a vicious kick to the metal and sped around the confines of the pen in a whirlwind, slamming bodily into the barriers, staggering and stumbling before hurling itself with purpose against the fencing and starting all over again.

It bucked and kicked, thrashing and bowling itself off its feet to the earth before scrambling back to its hooves. The animal flung itself around in a frenzy, shrieking and roaring thickly, clearly in a fit of insanity or fear.

Suddenly the animal skidded hard to a halt, kicking up earth and shredded grass as it wheeled around and pressed itself into a corner of the pen and stood shivering violently.

Next to him Jim heaved out a breath that sounded as if he'd been holding it.

The lunatic animal was a seemingly unextraordinary smoke grey mare. She had dark points and wide, wild brown eyes. She was thin and slight in frame. Her slim chest was heaving, gasping for air. Her skin and coat soaked and layered in frothy sweat. Her skin was flecked with mud and there was a discharged from her nostrils that looked like a gritty mixture of sweat, mucus and flecked with blood. Every movement she made was jerky, robotic and stilted. When a nervous horse would have twitched at a noise she fully launched herself away from it before whirling viciously as if to fight, finding no opponent she lashed out at the bars of her pen and worked herself into another frenzy.

The state the mare was in was deplorable at best, though she seemed physically healthy. But the greatest shock was one only Spock, and possibly Jim, felt.

The mare was pouring off a tidal of psychonic energy so powerful for a moment Spock's heart stuttered to a stop.

Spock had never encountered a being harboring such unbridled, pure anger before. The wrath of the animal poured into him like a conduit. The hybrid's personal nausea was forgotten and replaced with a frothing, boiling mass that threatened to eat him up form the inside and leave him as nothing but ash for the wind to carry and scatter.

The mare was wounded, whatever had caused her pain ran deep, right down into her soul where they had laid raw and festering until they could no longer heal and from that pain rose a fury that _frightened_ Spock. The mare was out of her mind with it, enraged down to her very core and _screaming_.

People were standing far away from the mare, looking on in something like fear or pity but none dared approach as close as Spock and Kirk had without realizing their proximity.

"God..." Jim whispered harshly, his eyes shocked back into their cerulean state before out of the corner of his vision Spock watched them darken and bleed into a cobalt color. "A goddamn supernova."

His voice was tight and almost pained, wrought with pity, sympathy and almost longing, as if there was something he could do at the moment that would help the furious mare but could not take action.

"A supernova?" Spock asked, his eyes still on the mare battering herself against the walls of the pen.

"Kind of a nice way for terming what happens to a horse like that." Jim said quietly, as if he didn't want to be overheard. His voice still taught but tinged with something nearer to anger. "Hot blooded horse like that, if they're really good looking, sometimes, at around a year old or so someone puts 'em under saddle, doesn't bother to wait until all their bones are grown or they can mentally handle it and if they put up a fuss they get roughed up. Then for about two or three years it's non-stop showing and running in the ring until they practically drop. By the time they're four or five they're so burned out they're ruined. Don't know how to be a horse, don't know how to figure problems out, don't know how to take care of themselves or anyone else... they get so bitter and hurt that they either collapse or blow up."

The mare hurled herself at the fencing again, flesh meeting metal violently.

A supernova indeed.

The mare paused, feeling Spock's gaze, catching his eyes. She dropped her head low, breath stirring the dirt. She pinned her ears seemed to snarl, nostrils flaring and sucking harshly, staring him down.

_Ran'du glazhau'na'... Vi't'bogozh'econ du nah-tor du..._

Spock swallowed softly and tried to hold the mare's gaze.

"Spock... c'mon." Jim urged, gently snagging his sleeve and tugging the hybrid after him. Spock kept his eyes on the mare for a long moment before finally turning his attention to the blonde.

"You are agitated."

"Its hard seeing something like that... especially when there's nothing you can do..." The blonde was vibrating

"Is it not regular for you or Cody to take on such a project?"

Jim shook his head, his teeth almost grinding. "Not her... tell me what else you're looking for."

Spock knew to what the blonde was referring. "A horse that is experienced and well broken-"

"Don't say that." Jim said snappishly and startling Spock slightly. "Don't say 'broken', you want a 'gentled' horse not a 'broken' horse. We don't 'break' horses."

"Is this not the accepted term for an animal that has been well trained? That a horse is 'broke' or 'broken'-"

"Spock." Jim snorted. "You want to see a broken horse turn around and take a look at that mare again."

The hybrid stiffened at Jim's flush of temper, now sure that the blonde had been just as empathically effected by the enraged grey.

"She's busted. She's ruined, she's destroyed, she's _done_... because someone _broke_ her."

At his back Spock flinched slightly at the sound of the mare impacting with the piping again. For a moment his mind drifted back to a short and almost forgettable argument that Spock had momentarily held with McCoy during the Narada Incident. One wherein Spock relayed his then limited knowledge of equine culture and handling to the doctor speaking on a metaphor for Jim himself... that he had then believed that a horse could only reach full potential when it was 'broken' and trained to understand it must submit to it's circumstances.

The raw burn in his stomach that the mare seemed to have left him with twisted and knotted slightly for his own misconceptions.

Some of his internal turmoil must have bled through to his face as the blonde before him slumped in on himself. Jim sighed and buried his face in his hands.

"Spock, I'm sorry for barking at you... you didn't do anything wrong. I don't know what happened... it started off good and just spiraled..."

The hybrid cocked his head to the side, listening to the unarticulated apology and excuse for a moment before raising his hand and silencing the young human.

"Jim, you are hyperaware and hypersensitive to the on goings of an event such at this, particularly concerning the distressed states of a species you hold in high esteem. It is only logical that unwarranted action and injustice done to them, especially to these who cannot defend or speak for themselves, would cause an emotional compromise in you. You have no reason to apologize for your behavior... particularly when I share it with you. I have no more desire than you to see these creatures in distress."

Jim breathed out heavily but didn't lift his face from his palms.

"What did I do to deserve you?" He muttered.

Spock cocked an eyebrow. "I believe the appropriate Terran response to this particular inquiry varies but a common one is 'something very good'. So as to praise both yourself and I."

Jim huffed a laugh into his hands and sniffed before shaking himself.

"Jim?"

They looked up as McCoy stalked towards them, his face wrought with concern.

"Hey Bones." Jim smiled half heartedly and Spock straightened himself marginally.

"Jim ya alright?" The doctor growled, his hand twitched as if he wanted to dive for his tricorder.

Not far off the mare hurled herself against the piping and shrieked at a passer by, the blonde flinched and Spock shut his eyes momentarily to try and quell down the roil in his gut.

McCoy glanced at both of them, looked passed them to the pen then huffed, snarling something under his breath before snagging both Jim and Spock's sleeves and roughly tugging them after him and well away from the chaotic mare.

"Don't do that to yerselves." He groused. "Ya should have seen Miss Cody-"

"Is she alright?" Jim asked sharply and Spock stiffened as well.

McCoy snorted. "Strung tighter but I'm sure Joanna'll smooth her out in a bit. I figure Miss Cody likes her-"

Jim jumped on the uncertain tone in McCoy's voice. "She loves her Bones. No mistake. Almost dotes on her the way you do."

McCoy relaxed a bit, the small assurance soothing the older man cleanly down into his core.

They paused for a moment by a pen that held a red chestnut pony and a black Tobiano Paint horse, the owner trying to place the two older horses together and preserve the long standing friendship of the animals.

They moved on at a slower pace, taking up their observations and appraising looks in a more muted manner. In front of a pen with a large fleabitten grey Quarter Horse cross Joanna came tearing up to them with Nemo A534 scrambling to follow.

"Papa! We found him!"

"Found him?" McCoy asked warily.

"Come on!" Joanna grabbed her sire's hand with her free one and proceeded to pull the doctor in to a quick trot to keep up with her near sprint. Jim glanced at Spock before breaking into a jog, the hybrid quickening his own stride in turn. Spock kept a portion of his attention outwards but no other animal in the row of pens caught his attention as they rounded the end and ducked into the third column, pens on left and right.

Cody was standing before the first pen on the left side, her head tilted back so she could read the lips and jerky hand signs of a middle aged man sitting on the top rail of the pipe fencing of the pen. Spock recognized the physical characteristics of a Native American, the man tanned leather skin and long braid of raven hair streaked liberally with grey tied back under a black Stetson hat. He wore faded and mud spattered jeans and hiking boots. A black tee shirt and black flannel shirt hanging off his shoulders. There was a slender leather loop around his throat supporting a carved piece of natural stone that served as a charm in the simple shape of a leaf.

Joanna tugged McCoy passed them right to the pen barrier.

"Should have known." Jim smiled and relaxed into a light walk, Spock following his example. "Joe!"

The man lifted his head from conversing with Cody and smiled, lifting a hand. "Jim."

The blonde stepped up and eagerly took the older man's hand. "Good to see you Joe."

"I would say the same. It's a strange thing for a man to walk in stars much less return whole. I'm glad to see you meet that oddity."

Jim huffed a laugh and all the tension and agitation seemed to have gone out of him. Spock observed this interaction and change in the blonde and approved of 'Joe' immediately. The hybrid felt a kind of ease near the older human. He was a creature of calm and understanding. The casual attention that Jim and Cody awarded him suggested a possibility of kinship or at least like mind if not bloodline.

"Hey, Joe this is Spock Grayson. Over there is Leonard McCoy and his daughter Joanna. Spock and Leonard serve with me in the Fleet."

"Morning, Spock. Leonard."

"Greetings."

"Hey." McCoy called somewhat awkwardly as Joanna was commanding all his attention to the horse in the pen. When Jim spoke his hands moved fluidly and easily, writing out the words for Cody.

"Spock, Bones. This is Joseph Sik. Joe. He owns Winding Tree Ranch up north in Kalispell, on the other end of the lake. Does the same kind of stock we do; Quarters, Paints, Appaloosas, the Native breeds. Every once in a while Cody and he breed out each other's studs to keep the gene pool fresh."

"A most profitable relationship, both on a personal and professional level." Spock nodded.

"It is." Sik agreed with a small smile. "And more profitable than I would have thought. I've never met a Vulcan before and I doubt I'll ever meet another."

Spock stiffened slightly, though Sik's face and dark eyes remained open and calm.

"You are referring to the recent destruction of my home planet and much of the population."

"In this we are kin." Sik assured quietly. "Our nations eaten up by a creature beyond our power. Yet. Somehow we survive."

Spock tilted an eyebrow up at Sik, hesitating for a moment before speaking again. "May I ask what clan you are from Mister Sik."

"Joe is fine, Spock. I am Blackfoot. And does your nation have tribes?"

"Of a kind, though they are referred to as 'Houses' and named for their founders."

"I didn't know that." Jim hummed.

"Perhaps in trade for what you are teaching me of horses and the Native nations of North America I shall return the favor of informing you on the details of Vulcan culture."

Jim looked interested and nodded in agreement.

Sik glanced at Cody who shrugged one shoulder.

"Tell me Jim why you seem as if you've been road hauled?"

The blonde's jaw ticked. "I must have been off planet for to long. As far as I can tell the stock's not lacking but the people are."

Sik huffed softly. "You've seen 269."

Jim snorted under his breath, heaving a soft sigh before shaking himself slightly.

"Ranch doing alright Joe?"

"Yes, Jim. And Native Sky?" Sik twitched his eyes towards Cody.

_**Hard finding buyers for beef and dairy these days, Joe.**_

Sik nodded slightly.

"See Papa. He's perfect." Joanna hummed.

"Well Joe, that's my cue. I have to see 'perfect'." Jim side stepped around Cody and Spock followed to look in at the horse that had tunneled Joanna's attention. Sik made a slightly dismissive motion.

The horse behind the pipe fencing was particularly attractive creature and met Joanna's previously demanded necessities for a pony.

It was a black roan Appaloosa gelding of approximately five years. His head, neck, chest and mane were faded, speckled grey. Fore legs from the knees down black. From his shoulder to his tail, around his belly and down his legs was the pale grey color marked heavily with haloed black spots ranging from the size of a large coin to the length and width of Jim's hand. The base of his tail the mottled grey before turning black. Like all Appaloosas the gelding had a rounded profile, compact frame, solid build and neat hooves. Her looked out at them with pricked ears and a pair of brilliant, pale blue eyes. An unusual feature for an Appaloosa.

The gelding nickered softly and switched his tail. He was already standing close to the pen wall, letting Joanna fawn over his through the bars. The gelding good naturedly allowed Jim and Spock to pay their own light treatment and praise. The Appaloosa's ears flicked towards them and sighing contentedly.

"God Joe. He's great. And he's real nice to look at. This one of Rimrock's?"

Sik nodded. "He is very much his father's son."

"Well that's brains and beauty right there." Jim rubbed the back of his hand over the gelding nostrils. "He's not finished is he?"

"Stock work and trail." Sik assured. "All his bases are covered. I made sure of it."

"I trust you Joe." Jim smiled. "But he's not the only one you brought right? You've got to let us have a shot at your other stock."

"Sorry Jim. Casey Kaysum was here this morning and walked out with a fair bit of the good stock." The older rancher. "He wasn't interested in Rockhound because of his eyes. Blue eyes put people off."

Jim scoffed, reached up to scrub at the corner of his own cerulean eyes. "Don't I know it."

Spock tilted an eyebrow up and twitched his head to the side. "While it is a very rare occurrence in Vulcan genetics, there are occasionally individuals born with blue eye color. It is considered exotic and often sought after in a mate and for those of an older age and submitting to superstitions a sign of having been particularly blessed with some attribute or by a protective spirit or deity."

Jim blinked at him for a moment, when Spock held his gaze the blonde looked away and scrubbed the back of his neck.

Their attention snapped around when Cody whistled. _**Joe, let us have a look at him?**_

The Blackfoot nodded with a small smile.

Joanna gave a high pitched shriek. Rockhound snorting but didn't shy from the noise. "Papapapapapapapa!"

"Joanna... Miss Cody." McCoy pleaded quietly and shook his head. "Please."

_**Len, I had to retire a few horses last year. I need some new blood. Joe builds some of the best horses in state.**_

"Miss Cody." McCoy's resolve weakening as Joanna hung onto his hand and forearm.

"Papa. It's okay, I know I couldn't take him home and that he's not really mine. But that doesn't really matter because Cody and Jim or anybody else wouldn't buy him if he wasn't a good horse to start with. Right?" Joanna looked pleadingly around at Jim.

"She's right Bones. It really is just chance that he's want she wanted. And technically she's not getting a horse." Jim shrugged.

McCoy huffed shallowly, pinching his nose bridge. "I'm not goin' to win this argument."

"If it was an argument, no, you wouldn't win." Jim assured. "Joe, have you got a bridle on hand. We can give him a work right now."

Sik nodded and slid from the top bar of the pipe fencing to the earth before reaching for a tangle of tack hanging on one corner of the pen. From it he stripped a simple Western bridle with a Quarter Horse bit.

Cody reached passed Jim and took it at the same time of sliding off her satchel and passing it to the blonde. She motioned McCoy and his daughter to step back. Nemo A534 moving them while Joanna was wrapped in solid excitement around her sire's arm. Cody unchained the pen and swung it open. Rockhound waited patiently inside the area of the pen while Cod approached and easily slipped the bridle into place, snugging the bit between his teeth before tossing reins over his neck. The gelding stood calmly while she moved around him, lightly touching him all over before stepping up on the mount side and vaulted up to straddle his back. She moved around until she was comfortable, asking Rockhound to side step to the left and right, to reverse before walking easily out of the pen and sliding up so that Cody could close the pen from his back. She gave him a moment, scrubbing her hand over his neck before whistling softly, squeezing her knees and taking off at an even trot towards the slope of open grass that led down to where patrons had parked their vehicles. The group watching in silence while she urged Rockhound into a lope then a collected gallop before bringing him back down to a walk and putting stress on him to perform half passes, side steps, sharp and long turns and assorted other movements before she trotted back up the slope towards them and slowing to a stop.

"Joe man, he looks great." Jim hummed as Cody dismounted and motioned Joanna forwards,

Suddenly the eight year old was shy. McCoy lightly stroked the top of her head and bent to whisper some small encouragement in her ear before the child passed off Nemo A534's leash and puffing slightly marched up towards Cody and Rockhound.

The Appaloosa stretched around to snuffle in her hair lightly before going still again while Cody lifted Joanna up onto his shoulder and wrapped her hands around the reins correctly and giving a brief and simple direction on how to ask the horse to move to the right or left to backup or walk forward using both her hands and legs.

She looked small perched on the bulk of the Appaloosa but she was serious and watching Cody's hand sign out the instruction intently before the deaf rancher stepped back. McCoy tensed slightly but Cody stayed well in arm's reach.

Joanna took a breath before she squeezed her knees into Rockhounds's shoulder. The gelding moved forward at a deliberately slow walk. Elated by her victory Joanna launched immediately into urging the horse to move left and right and turn full circles. Each move Rockhound made was deliberately slow and measured, the Appaloosa well aware that the girl aboard was inexperienced and overly excited and she did not need a mount that reflected that. He instead balanced her emotional state with his own. Cody moving at the gelding's shoulder as a buffer but she didn't interfere.

"Papa!" Joanna squeaked, equal parts terrified and blissed out. "Lookit!"

"I'm watchin' baby." McCoy called back.

"This is great." Jim hummed and dug into the satchel and pulled out Cody's pocket sized data pad and started snapping digital photographs. "Joe, he's brilliant."

"I am very proud of him." Sik admitted as Cody, Joanna and Rockhound returned. Joanna didn't complain but before she was lifted back to the earth she lied down on Rockhound's back and buried her face in his mane.

"I love him." She sighed and reluctantly allowed herself to be put back on the ground while Cody led the Appaloosa back into the pen, stripped the bridle and stepped back out. Shutting the pen behind her and handed back the bridle and retrieved her satchel.

_**How much are you asking for him, Joe?**_

"For you, Cody, a thousand and a breed out to Ceasefire." Sik responded.

Ceasefire was one of five major studs standing at Native Sky. He was a massive, perfectly conformed blue and black roan snowflake Appaloosa. Spock had yet to meet the stud and reserved his judgment of the animal's personality until he'd experienced it.

_**You're too good to me Joseph. We're going to finish a walk through and then I'll be back for him. **_

"I'll get the paperwork ready. Thanks Cody."

Sik reached out and took Cody's hand in a single, firm shake while they backed away and he turned to start gathering his tack. Jim handed Cody her data pad and the deaf rancher, with McCoy leaning over her shoulder, skimmed through the pictures Jim had taken. Joanna proudly marched a head with Nemo A534 as they resumed their movement up the third column of horses.

Jim's attention was snagged often, drawing him to the side to pause before a pen for a moment before moving on. Occasionally the sounds of 269 working into a frenzy echoed in the grounds making many shake their heads or murmur to each other, kept Jim's mood checked at just above distressed and twisted Spock's gut into a knot and burned at his innards in remembrance of the mare's bottomless anger.

Spock's attention drifted to a dusty palomino Quarter Horse that in frame was possibly too short for him but the gelding's patience and reactions to him where ideal, in good health and conditioning and Spock was sure that if they were partnered he would overcome the disproportion of the height. The owner agreed to bring the palomino, if he wasn't sold, to the arena at two o'clock.

They stepped around the end of the last pen and followed their serpentine path into the fourth column of pens on either side.

Jim stalled when a large sabino horse was led across their path. The animal was some kind of large warmblood, akin to the Oldenburg Jim intended to work out at one thirty. Save this warmblood seemed to have been crossed at some point and sported a copper sorrel coat that was broken by the large, irregular patches of white alike to the overo type of Paint horse though their dispersal was slightly more erratic and did not fit the overo standard completely. The warmblood even sported a narrow blaze down her profile and a singular blue eye.

The warmblood glanced idly at them as it was led away and Jim stood still in the aisle.

"Wait a minute." He muttered before turning and bolting after the sabino warmblood, catching up easily to the young man leading the horse by the halter and swiftly engaging him, walking in step along with the stranger and horse.

For a moment Spock hesitated debating turning and following Jim or keeping with the rest of their small group. The burn in his stomach twisted and wrenched when he saw Jim and the young stranger laugh idly at something, it rolled and jerked a little in distress and uncertainly.

Spock shifted on his feet before he realized that Jim wasn't looking at the stranger at all, his cerulean gaze locked on on the warmblood that had it been a human Spock would have feared for the individual's virtue. As far as the blonde was concerned the slight, young man holding the horse's lead didn't exist. He was completely enthralled by the sabino warmblood.

Internally denying he felt reassured Spock turned and strode quickly to catch up and walk on Cody's right side while McCoy still occupied the left flank.

Further down the line of pens Spock paused to appraise another bay horse, this time a cross bred of muddle origins, only for the reason that the mare had spied him through the bars of the pipe fencing, whinnied and stretched the length of her neck towards Spock until the hybrid moved over to allow her to sniff the back of his hand.

Spock had proceeded to lightly stroke the bay mare's ears when Jim ambled up, looking slightly dazed.

"Jim?" Spock inquired, stepping away from the mare and towards the blonde. McCoy and Cody turned quickly towards the young man.

"Jim, ya alright?" McCoy asked warily.

"I think I did something that was probably kind of bad." Jim rasped, his lips quirking. "That uh... that sorrel back there... I bought her."

Cody laughed silently, shaking her head with twitched lips.

"And that Oldenburg we saw earlier... I'm... I'm going to get her too."

Cody's silent laughed and an indulgent whispered sigh escaped her chest. _**Go on then.**_

"Jim, doesn't it take a little more than a few glances to buyin' an animal like this?" McCoy protested quietly.

"Yeah." Jim sounded somewhat hysterical but happy, there was a slightly intoxicated look on his face. He laughed softly and dug both his hands into his hair and looked out at them from under his wrists, his chest heaving a little.

"Help us, ya looked like a man that's havin' a mid life crisis." McCoy snorted softly and turned to track down Joanna and Nemo A534 that had wandered a head.

Cody and Spock stood loyally by while Jim's breathing evened and his smile started to falter a bit as he calmed.

_**You done now?**_

Jim nodded and huffed a final breath before it eased into complete normalcy.

_**Good**_

Cody sighed one more time before motioning Jim and Spock to follow her. They walked three a breast. The deaf rancher and blonde's full attention now turned towards looking for a suitable mount for Spock. He was thankful for their aid and impromptu advice when he brought their attention, however briefly to any animal that caught his own.

His mind was weighing and balancing the possibilities and probabilities between the dusty palomino gelding and the bay Morgan gelding. While his core and stomach continued to turn and twist around the burn 269 had left in him.

His own nausea and anxiety that had nearly made him ill that morning had dissolved completely, replaced by the lingering scorch of the smoke grey mare's rage, it bubbled and churned refusing to fade or break it only seethed and scrubbed at him.

Spock shook himself mentally and turned his attention towards the pens as they rounded the end of the fourth column and stepped over to the last line of enclosures. They caught up with Nemo A534, Joanna and her sire.

A large pale dappled grey mare with dark points, a Missouri Foxtrotter and Quarter Horse cross stood in the very last pen. She stood back and away from the pipe fencing, with her ears pinned warily. Spock spoke quietly to her and the edgy mare was coaxed forward until she stood near enough to quietly allow Spock to stroke her nostrils and trail his fingers over the bridge of her muzzle.

The mare equally caught Cody's attention and she stood back respectfully, watching the hybrid interact with the crossbred before giving her own light examination and both requesting the mare make an appearance at the arena at half passed two in the afternoon.

The group seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief.

"Can we have lunch now?" Joanna asked and Nemo A534 barked softly.

"We'll meet you down at the rig. Spock, come with me to get the sorrel."Jim was already nudging the hybrid before him and urged Spock into a short stride jog back through the columns of pens back to mid way along the third one.

"Hey, Kris!' Jim barked and the slender male stranger turned to look at him and smiled. He was dressed in new, dark jeans and a pale blue tee shirt. His dark hair tied back in a bob of a pony tail at the base of his skull.

"J. Tiberius. Glad ya didn't bail on me."

"You kidding?" Jim huffed. "Kris this is Spock Grayson. Spock this is Kris Mccune."

"Greetings."

"Hey. J. Tiberius, I've got the paperwork for you." Kris motioned them to follow and strode over to a pen where the sabino warmblood had ears pricked and watching, alert and interested, while Kris pulled a satchel that looked something like what Cody carried and rooted around before pulling out a manilla folder and opening it up.

"Still having a hard time believing she's half Trakehner." Jim took the offered folder and scanned the papers, flipping through them. There was a certified pedigree, a hand written bill of sale, hardcopies of veterinary records and training records as well as international identification papers, each with a picture of the sabino warmblood. "And here it is. Noted by the West German Trakehner Verband, out of studbook approved and certified mare Shcwaike. Unbelievable. 'Windjammer'. Guess they named her after the stud."

Kris grinned. "Whoever that Paint that got loose was was sure havin' a good day."

Jim laughed and took and offered pen from Kris and swiftly signed his name on every sheet of paper in the appropriate spaces.

"I sent them to you digitally too."

"I'll check my pad." Jim grinned slightly, the blonde dug into his back pocket and pulled out the salary access card and took Kris' offered data pad, the funds transfer program already on screen and Jim pressed the barcode of the card into the screen. It hummed as it scanned the numbers then chimed happily when Jim approved the transfer and closed the document.

"Well there ya go." Kris chirped happily and produced a light weight cheap, cotton rope halter and lead combo piece and handed it off to Jim.

"Appreciate it Kris."

"I'm glad I had what ya needed. Maybe I'll see ya 'round the ring, J. Tiberius." The slight man settled his satchel over his shoulder and lifted the leather lead and halter from the corner of the pen and reached out to lightly touch the mare's nostrils. "Good luck. Both of you."

Kris stepped back with a raised hand and walked away. Jim waved after him, handing the folder to Spock. Windjammer, the sabino Trakehner cross looked after Kris before looking back at Jim expectantly, ears pricked. She nickered, batting long white eyelashes.

"Hey gorgeous. You ready?"

The mare nickered and stood without crowding while Jim tugged open the pen gate and easily slid and tied the rope halter lead into place and urged the mare to walk after them. Spock only got the full effect of Windjammer's height when she slid up to them. The slender young mare was nearly eighteen hands tall. Her shoulder well above both Jim's and Spock's.

"Say hey to Spock, sis."

The warmblood swung her head around towards the hybrid, unlike most horses Spock had encountered the mare tilted her attention up and sniffed at Spock's hair, nosing him behind the ear for a moment before turning her attention away.

She seemed absurdly calm, waiting until Jim had closed the pen again and she walked quietly after them. The blonde was near puffed with pride and had a slight smile fixed on his lips. Whatever energy possession of the painted warmblood did for Jim was too much for him to contain well and while Spock wasn't paying attention the trio had somehow worked up into a light jog, trotting down the slope of grass towards the lake and scattered trees. People moved out of their way and they easily stepped around parked vehicles before coming into view of the Big Horn and the air-ride.

McCoy had draped himself into one of the folding chairs, Joanna perched on his lap and they were sharing a bottle of juice. Nemo A534 was sprawled on his side, looking very much asleep; empty bowls of water and food with a few forgotten kibbles next to him.

Rockhound was loosely tied to the outside of the temporary round pen Spock and Jim had set up earlier. He was wearing a red rope halter and secured with a red braided lead line. He was standing with a hoof on turn back and browsing happily on a hay net hung under his nose full of sweet hay from one of the bales.

The sabino Trakehner cross whinnied and Rockhound looked around before answering with a deep nicker.

Joanna sat up on her father's lap wide eyed as Jim lightly tied the warmblood next to the Appaloosa. "She's so pretty." The child breathed.

"I'm with her, Jim. I don't know horses but that is one beautiful animal." McCoy agreed. "No offense to Rocky over there."

"Thanks." Jim huffed a laugh and moved over to the rig box and rooting around extracted a blue rope halter, blue lead line and another hay net. He easily replaced the cotton halter lead combo on Windjammer's head and retied her. Spock relieved the blonde of the hay net moved to the cracked bale of hay and filled the net to bursting before hanging it before the sabino Trakehner cross in a similar fashion to Rockhound's.

Jim huffed and strode over to drop heavily into another of the tailgate chairs and sighed, taking the file from Spock and looking it over with a crooked smile.

"Very pleased with yerself are ya?" McCoy sighed and sipped the juice before passing it back to his daughter. They turned as Cody thudded down the ramp of the trailer and crossed towards them. She glanced at the painted warmblood, then caught Jim's eye and gave him a thumbs up.

"Thanks Cody. I think so too."

Spock eased down into the chair next to Jim's while Cody took up the last place next to McCoy. They all breathed easily and relaxed in the dappled shade of the trees. Unmoving and resting until Jim kicked open the cooler and rooted around in the stored drink and food.

"Juice or water Spock?"

"Either would be acceptable but given the choice I will take juice."

Jim provided him a sealed bottle of citrus fruit juice then dug around until he located a bowl container filled with a greens and vegetable salad with crumbled crutons. Jim passed it over with a fork.

"Spock."

"Thank you."

"Alright... the peanut butter and strawberry jelly with bananas and honey."

"Me." Joanna chirped happily. "Is it soggy?"

"Looks like." Jim passed over a square container.

"Awesome." She snatched the container and tore it open.

"What do ya say, darlin'?" McCoy prompted.

"Thanks."

"Course. Bones' got the smoked ham, green peppers, onions, smoked swiss, lettuce, tomato and a bunch of other stuff..."

"Thanks Jim." The doctor received his own container from the blonde.

"Turkey on white with everything Bones' got."

Cody took the box with a sign of thanks.

"And uber BLT for me." Jim dropped heavily into his seat with a huff and cracked open his container and like the other four humans dug into his packed lunch. They ate in companionable silence, letting a kind of laziness taken them over that no one commented when Joanna fell asleep halfway through her sandwich and curled in McCoy's lap. The doctor eased the container with half eaten meal to the earth and returned to his own sandwich at a slower pace.

"So Spock, what do you think of your first sale?" Jim asked between bites of his BLT.

"I find it an experience of both opportunity and enlightenment. I believe that we will all be profitable well before we return to Native Sky... we as well as the animals we acquire in our purchases and trades."

Jim hummed, chewing through his mouthful and swallowing before speaking again.

"You leaning towards anyone in particular of the three you're going to work out?"

"They are all exceptional in their own rights but I believe the animal we are referring to as the Morgan is favored above the other two. Of course my choice will possibly change with trial. May I inquire as to your opinion on the matter?"

"Well, Morgans aren't exactly a cattle or rodeo breed but from experience and what other's have told me and seen every now and then in the ring I honestly think they can do anything."

Spock nodded, his already tilted favor swaying more. "You are sure in your pursuit of the nervous mare you referred to as an Oldenburg?"

"Yeah."Jim huffed and took another large bite of his sandwich.

"May I inquire how you were able to decipher her breed when the owner herself did not know?"

Jim chewed and swallowed before speaking. "On her rear hip she had the studbook brand. An 'O' under a crown with th last two digits of her registered life number, which is like an ID. All pure bred Oldenburgs are branded that way before they turn two. ."

"Fascinating."

Jim hummed as he finished off his sandwich, dusted his hands and took a deep drink from a bottle of water to settle it. He sighed contentedly and slumped down into his chair, shutting his eyes as if to take his own nap.

"Good thing that Tucker guy doesn't know she's an Oldenburg."

"May I inquire as to why?" Spock asked.

"Cause he could ask for five figures and it wouldn't be unreasonable. Oldenburgs are hard to come by and the studbook is _so_ strict on their paperwork and locators I don't know how someone lost track of that little chessy. Once I get her out of here I can contact the studbook, the Verband, and find out all about her and why she went off radar... she looked Donnerhall bloodline to me and wouldn't that be a kick."

"I speculate that 'Donnerhall' is a particularly well known horse in the Oldenburg studbook?"

"He was one of the most awarded athletes of all time. Big stud books like Oldenburgs, Arabians, Morgans and a few others are kept so well and so carefully that you can trace a horse all the way back to the foundation sires. I can do it with Wolfie in the American Paint Horse Association registry. He goes all the way back to this stud named Kingfisher."

Spock nodded as he set aside his own unfinished meal and simply relaxed in the presence of their small circle. Listening to the soft snuffling and introductions the Appaloosa and the sabino Trakehner cross were making to one another. The breeze was fresh and clean, if not a little cool, off the lake and a soft soundtrack of rustling leaves and distant chatter of humans and animals and other goings on in the near distance of the faire and sale.

Spock would have believed he himself would have fallen into a doze or light meditative state had it not been to the still present blistering ache of the rock of sulphur burning in his core. The braided knots of nausea his own stomach had tied that morning was contorting and twisting under the heat. It was enough to make Spock uncomfortable for sitting to still for an extended period of time. Spock retreated inward and sought out the rock of sulphur, he circled it slowly, trying not to entice it but even his acknowledgement and close proximity made the broiling mass of rage twitch and snarl warningly.

Spock wondered at it. It was foreign, strange to himself and that was most likely why it continued to burn at him, he and this rock of ashen anger were things apart that should not have been tangled in the way that they were. Spock assumed that it would take a very deep state of meditation to dislodge and purge the intrusion, it was disquieting to think that an emotion of an animal at a distance could be so powerful as to do this kind of damage.

Spock continued to slowly circle the invader and pondered how it came to be here, dangerously close to his core and had a not so small epiphany.

He'd become more sensitive, more in tuned to everything around him.

Until that point Spock had precieved his interaction with his enviornment as growing more and more numbed and tolerant to the world around him, gaining some kind of immunity that ws unheard of in the Vulcan race. It was a blow to realize so suddenly that it was the opposite. Spock had become so accustomed to the Native Sky world, sheltered by the mountains and gentled horses and a warm close knit clan of people that looked on him as an equal and possibly, in the not so distant future, a brother he had not realized that the experience was not numbing him but making him more sensitive and more perceptive.

Spock looked outwardly, stretching his senses. The small psychonic pulse of the five familar beings around him were distinct and clearly there but had become so familar to him that he did not notice their influence until he searched out.

The brilliant flush of Joanna, even in sleep. The content but still aggressive rumble of McCoy. A silent, feather light pressure from Cody and the odd, feral touch waifting up from Nemo A534. And from close to his side the half wild soothing pulse of Jim that laced through him more thoroughly than the others.

Low in his gut the coil of withering anger gave a slight pulse, a faded sense of confusion flickering briefly into existence before being swallowed back up by the fury.

"Hey. The world and the horses in it wait for no one. Wakey. Wakey."

Spock opened his eyes to look up at Jim, the blonde was stretching, arching his back and straining his arms well above his head. Spock pulled himself completey back to the reality of the world around him. Cody was gathering up the Western tack. Joanna was still asleep in McCoy's lap and the doctor looked content to stay where he was.

Jim strode over and gathered up the English tack set then jerked his head to indicate Spock's need to get back into movement. The hyrbid looked towards McCoy as he rose to his feet.

"I'll hold down the fort." The medical officer waved them on.

"Spock." Jim prompted. He and Cody waiting a few yards away with their saddles balanced on hips, bridles, chest pieces and saddle pads over their shoulders. Spock swiftly strode to catch up as they started their ascent up the sloped earth back towards the arena.

"So, Spock, what's going to be your approach?" Jim asked as they walked.

"Much in the same way that my training in riding has progressed save it will be an abbreviated rendition. Brief familiarization and some handling before assessing compatibility in saddle first by bareback excersise then progressing to fully tacked riding. Though I will not award the level of security present by Native Sky horses to them and in the bareback movements will make used of a bridle. Once I have assess all three horses I will make a final desicion."

Jim huffed a soft laugh. "Only you could make something like this sound so clinical then get up on a horse and look like you were born there."

Spock cocked his head slightly to the side. "You believe I am precieved in a natural state when riding a horse?"

"Yeah. You always look more comfortable with a leg thrown over. You relax and you just kind of have a very natural seat." Jim shrugged one shoulder with a tilted smile.

"I was unaware of this."

"I shouldn't have told you, 'cause now you'll think about it." Jim muttered.

"Quite the contrary. I am content to know that this is the case without my knowing or true effort. I will attempt to make to make no change in my performance and effort."

"If I didn't know better I'd say you sounded relieved."

It was, in truth an assurance. Spock continued his efforts with the constant expectation that sooner than later Jim would tell him that he was unfit for the back of a horse and he should discontinue. No amount of small, constant praise that Jim offered during his lessons could up root this instilled notion. Now, for the first time Spock felt the foundation of the belief shake violently and twist, though it did not dislodge.

The rock of sulphur in his gut gave another small, flicker of confusion before returning to it's seething.

"Indeed."

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**A/N: Okay here's a big note: DO NOT USE THESE CHAPTERS AS A GUIDE TO BUY A HORSE!!!!! It's a very difficult and thorough process that involves a lot more than walking around a faire grounds and picking out what you think looks good. I repeat DO NOT USE THESE CHAPTERS AS A GUIDE TO BUY A HORSE.**

**Another big note: this is an Arc.**

**I started writing this chapter with a innocent misconception that it would be maybe a little longer than my average chapter, between fifteen and twenty digital pages, and it spawned and got a hold of toxic waste and steroids and miracle grow and now it's over forty... SO it's been broken up into three different chapters and become an Arc. Like I said at the top. So in a couple days I'll post Fourteen and a couple days after that Fifteen and then the Arc will be over and I will take a nap.**

**Yes. That sounds. Good. **

**Also the concept of Mitawa Sukawaka (Mee-ta-wa Shee-koa-wu-ka) is NOT a Lakota or any Native tribes concept. Many plains and nomadic tribes in time became very dependent on horses and considered them sacred animals but the concept of 'Mitawa Sukawaka' is not based in a tribal belief but more of a personal concept to the Chicalato family line and the life long search and goal of all good equestrians and horsemen/women for the 'horse of a lifetime'.**

**Lakota Translation:**

**Mitawa Sukawaka - My Sacred Dog**

**Blackfoot Translation:**

**Niitsitapi - Original People: This refers to the Blackfoot Confederacy and the large tribes that make up the nation; North Peigan, South Peigan or Blackfeet, Kainai and Siksika. Three First Nations of the Niitsitapi are located in Alberta, Canada and the Native American South Peigan/Blackfeet are located in northern, Montana. **

**Sik - Black**

**Vulcan Translation:**

**Ran'du** **glazhau'na'**_** - **_**What are you looking at?**

**Vi't'bogozh'econ** **du** **nah-tor** **du **_**-**_** Who the Hell do you think you are?**

**And one more note. The studs Donnerhall for Oldenburgs and Kingfisher for APHA are both very real, very well awarded and very sought after blood lines. Donnerhall was AMAZING, he competed in multiple world championships and multiple Olympics in dressage and never walked away without a medal, almost all gold and his blood line are renowned for being similar levels of champions. Donnerhall passed away in 2002 at the age of 21.**

**Kingfisher was a black overo stud horse of unknown origins that became a founding stallion in the modern overo Paint horse. He was also heavily awarded in Western disciplines and produced a wide array of winning offspring. Both my mare Magic and my gelding Voodoo are related to him directly.**


	14. Chapter 14

**NOTE: DO NOT USE THESE CHAPTERS AS A GUIDE TO BUY A HORSE!!!!! It's a very difficult and thorough process that involves a lot more than walking around a faire grounds and picking out what you think looks good. I repeat DO NOT USE THESE CHAPTERS AS A GUIDE TO BUY A HORSE.**

**In other news: you guys sure made a lot of noise in the comments this last chapter. Hope this one measures up. **

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**Summary: Mitawa Sukawaka Arc 2/3:**_**They had lost something then. After that their steps had not matched correctly and their minds had worked against one another minimally. **_

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**Lost Horse Creek, Montana**

"**When you are lonely, let me be your companion. When you are tired, let me carry the load. When you need to learn, let me teach you… after all, I am your horse."**

**-Unknown**

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**Mitawa Sukawaka Arc Part Two**

**Chapter Fourteen: Matched**

_**"It hurts to find out what you wanted doesn't match what you dreamed it would be."**_

**- Randy K. Milholland**

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_**Polson Rodeo and Faire Grounds**_

_**400 Lake Shore Drive,**_

_**Polson City, Flathead Lake , Flathead Indian Reservation, Mission Mountain Range, Rocky Mountains, Lake County, Montana**_

_**Stardate: 2260**_

_**October 28**_

_**1310 Hours**_

…

There was an assortment of humans and horses lingering around, chattering and observing different animals being test ridden in the arena. There were a few people sitting at random in the stands and looking on, often leaning to their neightbors and speaking in their ears though it was unlikely they would be over heard.

Cody led around to the far side of the arena gate and walked up to a series of pens connected to and would open up into the arena during a show or rodeo.

The deaf rancher moved around to where there was a section of pen fencing not being used as a temporary hitch post, saddle rack or seating for well balanced horsemen and women.

She effectively took the pannel for them and she and Jim proceeded to draped their tack over one of the rails to await use. Once Jim had settled his tack he nimbly climbed to the top rail, straddled it comfortably and balanced there like some very strange perched bird.

Cody quickly followed, sitting sideways on the rail instead of straddling it the way Jim did.

"Room for one more, Spock." Jim jerked his head towards the rest of the top rail.

"I will stand. It seems and uncomfortabe way to take ease."

"Yeah well, when you're in rodeo it's sometimes the only seat you get that isn't breathing." Jim quirked his lips.

While they were early to meet any of their schedualed works the first, Hill and the bay Morgan gelding, were late by ten minutes.

"Sorry about that." She pressed as she led the Morgan up to them and lightly tied his lead rope onto their peice of fencing. The gelding was still fully tacked in Western equipment and his fur was slightly matted with dried sweat.

Jim and Cody shook her hand lightly, both putting on a kind of air of cool regard. Jim introducing the deaf rancher and when Hill offered her palm to Spock the hybrid kept his hands firmly behind his back.

"My apologies, Miss Hill. Vulcans do not shake hands or make physical contact idly."

Hill narrowed her eyes and looked put out but only nodded. Cody eyed the woman discretely and made no attempt to communicate.

"Thank you for presenting the gelding during your busy schedual for a workout. May I ask now to take control of him for a time?" Spock continued, no more interested in pleasantries with the passively hostile woman.

She seemed surprised and somewhat reluctant before making a jerking motion towards the Morgan. "Go right a head. If you have any questions just ask."

"Indeed." Spock moved to the Morgan's side, the gelding nickering softly in recognition. Pricking his ears forwards and twisting his head up to puff warm, damp air into the hybrid's face. Spock responded almost naturally, lifting one hand to scratch the gelding under his jaw. The bay horse stood still and calm as Spock swiftly and efficiently relieved him of the saddle and bridle and set them aside. The bay let out a heave of breath, almost relieved and relaxed. The way his fur was distorted it was likely that he had been wearing the saddle for most of the day. Not unheard of or damaging to an animal but it could become uncomfortable.

With Cody and Jim watching calmly Spock lightly examined the Morgan again, running light hands over the bay's body, touching everywhere and testing his reactions. More than once Spock noticed the gelding lean into him, a clearly affectionate creature and a gentle pulse of his mind told of no kind of brutal past or handling.

Spock took the black leather Western bridle from Cody's tack set and slipped it over the Mogran's head, unbuckling the halter and leaving the horse only in the bridle. Spock coaxed him away from the pipe fencing and made a few different cues from the ground, having the Morgan bend and flex with or against the reins and bit, having him back up a few steps with a touch to his chest and move toward with a similar press to his flank.

The Morgan was easily responsive and twisted and turned beautifully and without effort. Flexing and bending carefully under Spock's light touch.

Spock then tossed the reins over the Morgan's neck, lifted the rest of the Wstern tack up against his hip and walked a head of the horse.

The Morgan docilely walked on Spock's heels without being touched and followed the hybrid into the arena around the outter wall until Spock deemed a rounded corner of the arena unoccupied and isolated enough to continue. Jim, Cody and Hill had followed but stood back and out of the way, hands in their jeans pockets and eyes observant.

Spock was suddenly aware that a good deal of attention had turned towards him. Eyes catching sight of the swept point ears, the slightly ragged but still unmistakably stylized hair and slanted eyebrows. Many looks were of disbelief and curiosity and a few more of wariness and confusion. Spock felt the attention and hum of psychonic aura amplified by the natural shape of the arena and volume of indivudals around him. Spock paid no outward attention as he set the saddle, saddle pad and breast collar aside and out of the way near the wall. He shook himself internally and turned towards the patiently waiting gelding.

The Morgan perked his ears at his approach then stiffened up, locking his muscles when Spock moved around to the mount side and ghosted his hands over the gelding's shoulder and rump. The Morgan stood braced and Spock heard a distinct murmur go up from the observers around him. Spock ignored it, focusing on the Morgan and lightly vaulted bareback up onto the gelding without a hitch or stumble.

The murmurs went silent and a slight glance in Jim and Cody's direction the hybrid noted a pair of identical, slightly smug smiles carefully held on their faces.

His confidence suddenly assured and hands set firmly on the crease of his hips Spock cued the Morgan lightly with the press of his legs, shift of his weight and a softly spoken word.

The bay performed flawlessly shifting left and right, reversing and moving forwards the instant that Spock asked him to while the hybrid's hands stayed firmly in place flush to his thighs and thumbs hookd behind his pelvis.

At one point Spock asked for a movement called a lateral pass that required the animal to make a side step where the outer leg literally stepped across the near side. It was not an easiy thing done and the Morgan made the movement with only a slight hitch but performed it. The murmur from on lookers went up again at the odd insertion of a dressage movement into what had been an entirely Western test.

Spock was unaware of the controversy. During his lessons with Jim the blonde had, without the hybrid's knowledge, been instilling into him dressage movements and steps along side the Western. In all rights unbeknownst to Spock was a novice dressage rider as well as Western one.

Satisfied Spock cued the Morgan to stand while he readjusted his seat then put the bay into a trot. They cricled along the wall at a smooth, even pace all the way around the arena, passing Jim, Cody and Hill before urging the Morgan into a even lope and performed the circuit again. Drawing more attention from other riders in the arena testing horses. The hybrid found his seat perfectly straddled close to the gelding's shoulder. His frame swayed and rolled easily with each dip and rise of the Morgan's back. His hips rocked and slanted as their weight shifted in tandem. Spock kept his hands firmly locked on his pelvis and head up, trusting the bay to watch his own feet and move freely given his head.

The hybrid brought the gelding back down from the lope to a trot and to a walk before stopping next to the saddle and tack he'd set aside.

Spock dismounted and swiftly tacked the Morgan up, securing the saddle comfortably before remounting and performing the entire routine again with a light hand on the reins and one still firmly on his hip.

The hybrid turned the gedling back and trotted smoothly out of the arena with Cody, Jim and Hill following, Behind them the assorted humans on the ground and in the stands broke into elevated discussion.

"You looked really good out there Spock." Jim said as he jogged up to walk at Spock's knee, he idly lifted a hand and patted the flexed muscle of the hybrid's calf through the jean and under layer of thermal fabric. A gesture that was common after or during a particularly difficult lesson in riding.

"The Morgan did exceptionally well and I experienced a comfortable ride and a sense of security with him. Though I can tell that he is fatigued and stressed."

It was true. The gelding had given his full attention and all his effort to Spock and the short work out but his head had been low, tail dropped and steps slightly unsteady.

"Yeah, he does look kind of exhausted." Jim agreed. "He's probably been running all day... what do you think?"

"My favor is still for him at this moment." Spock lightly touched the Morgan's neck.

"I think your pretty well matched but give the same attention to the palomino and Foxtrotter, okay?" Jim was starting to become distracted and Spock had a good hypothesis as to why. He half turned to follow the blonde's line of sight. Not far off the rounded form of Tucker was tugging along the nervous pale chestnut filly behind him. The Oldenburg was jumping and side stepping anxiously and the Tucker's hold was growing heavier by the moment in an attempt to restrain her.

Jim was tense and starting to unravel.

"Perhaps you should assist." The hybrid prompted as he dismounted but as he turned to look the blonde was already gone and Spock heard the distinct, high pitched whinny of recognition coming from the direction of the Oldenburg.

Spock easily unsaddled the Morgan, skating his hands across tense muscle and relaxing them with a touch. The gelding twisted around and nudged Spock's hip gently, blowing warm air under his clothes and across his lower back.

He replaced the halter and Hill's saddle, secured looser than it had been before turning towards the Morgan's current owner.

"You really can ride, can't you?" Her voice was lighter and considerably less hostile. For it Spock was only more formal.

"May I inquire as to what your asking price for him?"

"I'm hoping to get two thousand for him."

Spock nodded. "May I make a second inquiry as to where I may be able to locate you in approximately two point four seven hours, around the hour of fifteen hundred?"

"If I'm not gone he'll be in the third row of pens, about halfway down." Hill assured.

"I thank you and I shall seek you out at the approximated time." Spock dipped into a slight bow and watched the Morgan be led away. The gelding half turned back and nickered at him a final time before quietly moving on.

Cody moved over to Spock's side and offered a small half smile. _**You both looked really good out there, sugar.**_

"Then you, Jim and I are in agreement that it is a good partnership." His hands twitching along with his words to make it easier for her to understand.

Cody nodded and shifted her attention to where Jim was walking with Tucker, the blonde now leading the nervous filly. The Oldenburg crowding at his hip, seeking some kind of security and in a way calmed to only seem flightly and not a nervous wreck.

Jim was chatting idly with Tucker but Spock could read a stiffness in the blonde that he was sure only Cody and the pale chestnut felt as well.

The deaf rancher looked Jim and the mare over before gently nudging Spock.

_**Watch this now, sugar. It's something to see. **_

Spock retreated to Cody's flank, Tucker standing to their side while Jim lapsed into silence, tied the tensed filly and went through a kind of examination that consisted of layer upon layer deeper comminication than the light touch of Jim's fingers on the twitching skin. The soft, rolling whispers of the ancient, unwritten language pooled up and coiled in his joints, smoothing across his skin and bleeding silver in his eyes. It seeped from Jim's touch into the Oldenburg, growing outwards in a web of delicate symbols and glyphs before sinking under the filly's skin and down into blood and tissue unseen. Soon it seemed every fired nerve and spooked muscle in the pale chestnut had relaxed and eased unil she stood as calmly and quietly as Yellow Wolf or any other of Jim's own horses would, the filly's very spirit seemed quieted. The pace of her resperation slowing and unwinding until it was completely softened, only the soft whisper of passed air matching Jim's own breathing pattern.

Jim fit the English bridle and snaffle bit into place and for a moment the filly's anxiety flared back to life but soothed slowly as Jim only asked her to bend and arch, flexing and coiling then relaxing again. Performing an in hand lameness examination and test of responsiveness. He lightly secured her to the pen fencing again and just as slowly and carefully slid the small blanket pad then English saddle into place. Gently cinching it up and buckling the martigale into place across her chest and over each rein.

Every move he made was gentle, designed to envoke confidence and calm, as if the tall Oldenburg, nearly the same eighteen hands of the painted warmblood, were made of easily shattered glass.

Like the bridle the filly's anxiety resurfaced but amost as quickly gave way again and Jim led her off a bit, not towards the arena but towards open grass land. The pale chestnut seemed to stay relaxed, bracing when Jim slightly vaulted up into the small English saddle, settled himself into the thin, metal stirrups then set off at a quick trot away from them.

All of it done in silence.

"Well I'll be damned." Tucker muttered, his face slack in shock and staring after the retreating form of Jim and the Oldenburg. Further on into the field outside of the arena grounds and well out of earshot Jim proceeded to lightly work the Oldenburg, taking her in circles and turns. Spock easily caught the few times the filly refused some command and Jim would pull her back a bit to calm down then come back to it and ease her through the cue and movement, praising silently before moving on to something else. It was clear that the filly had been trained but at some point had fallen out of favor and was not nearly so advanced as she should have been. More than once Jim asked for a movement and the Oldenburg could not perform it at all but Jim's hand stayed ever light on the reins and he never asked her for to much to fast and did not punish her for what she lacked.

In return the filly gave everything she had and remembered to the blonde, arching her back and neck, throwing out her steps in high animated motion and lifting her tail slightly, one ear pricked forwards and one back.

Eventually Jim slowly trotted the pale chestnut towards then but diverged when he spotted a rotting and downed log among the scattred trees. He sat up straighter and urged the filly up to a lope, he bent over her neck and urged her gently until the Oldenburg seemed to understand, zeroed in on the fallen log and they were airborn, floating in a long stretch of the filly's stride as she lept over the log and hit the earth again still in a lope. Jim quieted her down to a trot then a walk before stoping her some ways away, dismounting and walking her back towards them. Spock noticed that a few other uninvolved in the party had paused to watch and turned back to their own deals and friends and horses.

"I have to say that was really somethin'." Tucker woofed at Jim. The blonde cast a look at him when the mare tensed up again. Jim handed the reins off to Spock and approached Tucker. His intentions to keep the filly far away from her current owner clear. Spock was unsure if Jim had detected some form of abuse or neglect or it was just Tucker's seeming misunderstanding off the filly or his stupidity of her that Jim was keen to keep her away from the infuence.

The Oldenburg's nerves shot back through the roof and she cried after him. Spock offered the back of his hand to the filly and lightly stroked her now sweat damp neck. She soothed a little, twisting to bury her face into Spock's flank and the hybrid did not discourage her of this comfort.

"If you haven't already figured it out Mister Tucker I'm walking out of here with her."

"Agreed. Just as well for the both of ya." Tucker rumbled and dug out a pocket sized data pad much like Cody's except it was a newer model. "I of course don't have any paper work on her other than a few vet bills, I can send those to ya."

He used a stylus to swiftly carry out the action and then quickly up a bill of sale.

"The seven hundred's all yours, Mister Tucker." Jim said, his tone still calm and falsely friendly.

"Oh now, Kirk. After seein' that is seems kind of a cheat doesn't it?"

Jim's eyes flashed cobalt for a moment but he semed to stay relaxed. Next to Spock Cody stiffened as well, having read the conversation on their lips.

"Mister Tucker. When I asked you how much you wanted for her, you told me you'd be happy with seven hundred-"

"Kirk that was before-"

"Mister Tucker, I'm very sorry that you were uninformed about the abilities of this filly but we agreed that you would sell her to me for seven hundred. And as I said no one but me is going to walk away with her and you readily agreed. Infront of my sister and friend. It seems to me if anyone is on the verge of being cheated it's myself."

Tucker gaped at Jim before his face turned nearly purple, flustering up and puffing.

"We can always ask one of the sale officals to settle the debate." Jim crossed his arms lightly on his chest.

The purple color darkened and with an edge of hostility Tucker finished off the digital bill of sale but in the time it took Cody had dug into her satchel and come up with a slip of folded white paper and pen and crossed over next to Jim. When Tucker handed the data pad over Jim passed it on to Cody and they both ignored the sputtering and flustered man as Cody and Jim went about copying down the drawn up bill of sale word for word on the peice of paper. Jim and Tucker signed the paper each before Jim signed the pad and swiped his salary card, approving the transfer and shutting it down as he tucked the card and folded bit of paper into his back pocket.

"Thank you Mister Tucker."

The man grumbled and marched off in a huff. Jim and Cody stepped back to Spock's side where the Oldenburg readily gave up her minor sanctuary in Spock's flank to crowd and reassure herself in Jim's presence. Jim soothed her and relaxed himself with a sigh.

"He seemed very keen to get more out of you and the filly with your effort instead of making his own and profiting that way."

"Yeah. Some people are like that. He's not a bad guy I don't think." Jim hummed, still stroking the Oldenburg's nostrils. "She was just too much horse for him and, as I figured, when push came to shove he was a businessman. Not a horseman."

"You have been through an experience like this before." Spock said sagely.

"Once or twice. It okay if I leave you and Cody for a bit? I'm going to take her down to the rig and away from all this. She's about fit to be tied." Jim asked as he loosened the girth around the filly's gut.

The Oldenburg seemed far from the decrisption of 'fit to be tied', relaxed and calmed under Jim's attention and the nearness of Cody and Spock.

"Of course."

_**Go a head, Jim. I'll keep an eye on him. **_Cody jerked her head at Spock and the blonde huffed a laugh before leading the Oldenburg as far around the thick of humanity that he could and out of sight own towards the sloped earth and scattered trees. As he walked he passed the petite, red headed woman and dusty palomino walking in Spock and Cody's direction to make their meeting for the hybrid to try out the gelding.

Spock's greeting and request to take control of the palomino was in a far lighter tone that in had been with the hostile Hill earlier and Spock set about repeating his actions with the smaller Quarter Horse as he had done with the Morgan. This time when he entered the arena with the palomino trailing him much of the movement stalled to a complete stop, the stands were slightly fuller and others crowded at the perimeter of the arena, looking through the pipe fencing and Spock felt very much the center of attention.

It was not necessarily a pleasent occurrence and Spock ignored it, not wanting to allow it to cloud his judgement to be made on the palomino as Spock put him through the same paces as he had the Morgan, learning quickly that the gelding was not so well balanced and lacked some in training but nothing that with time and effort Spock with the help of Cody and Jim could not instill in the palomino. The gelding perfomed better under saddle than he did bareback but had a smooth solid pace in walk, trot and lope.

In all the gelding was a good natured, responsive and intelligent creature but Spock did not feel the same kind of security or comraderie he had with Jeepers Creepers or Hornet or the Morgan. He politely thanked and apologised to the woman, who only smiled and nodded her understanding as she led the palomino away. The gelding didn't look back.

It was some time before the Foxtrotter cross was meant to meet them so Spock busied himself at Cody's side watching others test ride and work horses in the arena, keeping a close eye out in the event that a good potential animal had missed their attention and was possibly still in play.

After a few moments Spock turned his attention to the deaf rancher next to him.

_May I ask a personal query, Cody?_

He twitched and twisted his hands in sign easily, remaining silent in favor of the physical communication.

_**What can I do for you, sugar?**_

_May I ask... how is it that one realizes they have encountered the Mitawa Sukawaka?_

Cody smiled gently at him, her grey eyes calm and knowing.

_**Jim's been telling you stories huh?**_

_He explained the concept to me in example of his possibly life long bond with Yellow Wolf. This idea of a horse that could be considered or called something so... powerful as a brother or closer still, it is an intriguing goal._

Cody nodded the light smile still on her face.

_**If it happens, that you are so lucky to meet the Mitawa Sukawaka, when you cross paths you will know because they will speak to you. Their spirit will speak to yours. Speak to you in a way that no one else would. And it would not leave you. Understand?**_

Spock nodded slightly, paused in though and feeling the acidic bite of 269's anger still coiled in his stomach.

He didn't have long to dwell. And older man with every inch of his skin wrinkled and creased hobbled slightly up to meet them with the Foxtrotter cross in tow and Spock once again quietly thanked the owner for his time and took control of the slightly nervous horse, copying Jim's tactics of soothing the nerves out of the dark pointed, dapple grey mare. She calmed, though not so completely as the Oldenburg had and was receptive and reactive to Spock's touch in the same way the Morgan had been but Spock assumed it was the tang of fear and nervousness still lingering on the edge of her mind.

The only difference in this work was that Cody was paying particularly close attention, probably seeing and reading things that Spock did not catch or overlooked in his own, inexperience attempt to be thorough.

After Spock had felt the mare all over Cody had come in from her respectful distance and done the same touch examination before allowing Spock to proceed as he had with the Morgan and palomino, still watching closely.

_**Sugar, be careful now...**_ Cody advised as they walked into the arena and Spock again drawing almost all the attention there was to give, only he was soothed slightly this time as Cody was right next to him, the elderly owner waiting and watching near the entrance to the arena. _**Keep yourself calm and light handed, she needs a little extra courage from you, alright?**_

Spock nodded in understanding.

_**Another thing is that she's a Foxtrotter and they're good horses but they move differently than ones you're used to, okay? The front end moves the same as any horse but a Foxtrotter shuffles in the rear. They slide their steps and at faster paces when the front end walks the rear is trotting but that's the normal pace so don't get worried and because she's a cross she might not even do it.**_

It turned out that the mare did in fact have the Foxtrotter's unusual pace and while Spock was able to keep her calm, relaxed and well behaved under his hand and she was supple and responsive Spock felt unbalanced and distracted by the shuffling and trotting in the rear with the mare's hind qaurters dipped lower to the earth than her fore quarters.

Once he had performed the bareback and saddled circuits of the arena he dismounted and allowed Cody to take her turn. She stripped the mare of all but the bridle, vaulted up and put the mare through a series of far more advanced paces than Spock had and proceeded to repeat those with the saddle.

Spock continued to calm the mare while Cody closed the deal with the older owner and he went his own way leaving Cody with a small stack of paperwork on the Foxtrotter cross. She took the reins of the still slightly agitated mare, leaving her tacked instead of stripping and carrying the saddle and gear.

They walked together over to the third column of pens, Spock feeling some minor anxiety that the Morgan would be gone or already heading towards the steel metal barn where horses that went unsold during the day would go for auctioning off in the ring later in the evening.

Halfway down the line of pens a soft whinny went up and the anxiety left Spock all together when the Morgan threw his head over the top rail of the pen fencing, looking directly up to him. There was another, smaller and slighter black horse in the pen with the bay and the encloser on their right had another two, these two black as well. The other three horses all of the Morgan breed. Two of them didn't have the cord loop and number tag around their necks, possibly sold. Sitting in a tailgate chair with a trim Golden Retriever curled around a red canvas satchel and her feet was Hill.

_**Sugar, when she asks for the two thousand counter with fifteen hundred**_

Spock cocked an eyebrow at the advice but nodded in agreement before turning back toards the grey haired woman before him.

"Miss Hill." Spock greeted as he drew closer. The dog looked up and woofed softly, Hill shushed him and rose to meet Spock, starting to offer then retracted her hand.

"Mister Grayson, still doing alright?"

"Very well indeed. I would like to discuss the purchase of your gelding."

It took a moment for what Spock had said to process and then whatever emotional or personal feelings or beliefs she held for Spock fled her and she turned purely business like.

"That sounds alright to me Mister Grayson. From what I saw out in the arena he'll be going into good hands."

Spock lifted an eyebrow at what could have only been a compliment. "Indeed."

"Let me get his papers together." She sat back into her chair and rooted into the red canvas bag and pulled out a file much like the one Jim had recieved from Kris Mccune for the sabino warmblood. She shuffled with a pen through the pedigree, copied vet bills, signing her name on transfer papers for the American Morgan Horse Association and documents and quickly drew up a bill of sale.

"You're agreeing to the two thousand?"

"I propose a counter offer of fifteen hundred credits as the purchase price." Spock idly reached out and passed his fingers over the Morgan's nostrils. The bay nudged his hand affectionately.

Hill made a slight face, her lips twitching downwards. "That's a little thin..."

"You may make a counter to my own." Spock cocked his head to the side.

Hill looked towards the Morgan then back at Spock. "Sixteen."

The hybrid looked towards Cody who gave a small jerk of a nod.

"That is agreeable." Spock responded.

Hill nodded, finished off the papers before pulling out a data pad and pulling up financial transfer programs and passed all of it and the pen over to the hybrid.

"My contact information is on the pedigree because I bred him. You can e-mail me if you want any of his documentation in digital format and if you ever have a notion to sell him I would appreciate it if you gave me a call and first shot at him."

Spock titled an eyebrow at the unusual request but did not find it outlandish or offensive. "The event is unlikely but I will agree to this."

Hill gave a twitch of a smile that neither Spock or Cody returned. The hybrid went about filling out his name in the appropriate places on the paperwork, pausing for a moment and looking down at the Vulcan script he'd used before going back and signing '_Spock Grayson'_ next to his true signature on the lines, dating them and handing the completed paper work to Cody before turning his attention to the data pad. He skimmed his eyes over the digital paper work before sliding his salary card, approving and signing the transfer with a stylus and passing it back.

"Well. Thats that then. Thank you, Mister Grayson. If you don't mind I'll keep his halter and lead?"

Spock nodded, feeling a bubble of some kind expanding in the hollow of his chest until it ws becoming uncomfortable. The 269's rock of fury protested and the combination was starting to made Spock slightly light headed.

"Okay. Here." She dug into the canvas bag before producing a cheap, cotton rope halter lead combination identical to the one that Jim had been given to handle the sabino Trakehner.

Spock took the offering.

"Thank you, Miss Hill." Spock didn't hesitate to unchain and slip into the pen next to the bay gelding. The Morgan side stepped and dipped his head to allow Spock to unbuckle the leather halter and untied the tag number cord and passed them to Hill before slipping and tying the halter lead into place and walked the bay out of the pen. Lightly pushing the black pen mate back and shut the gate.

"Good luck, Mister Grayson." Hill said settling into the chair.

Spock dipped his head, widing the cotton length of rope around his wrist. "Live long and prosper."

He offered in parting the Vulcan saltue, spreading his fingers and lightly turned the bay around and walked him on Cody and the Foxrotter's heels.

Spock understood suddenly why Jim could not help running down the slope wih the sabino Trakehner cross. He had a similar urge to do the same as the Morgan walked next to him, their paces matching. The gelding nickered softly and nosed at his hand. He resisted the urge with some effort and followed Cody and the dapple grey mare quietly.

They turned around the end of the pens and walked down the second column. Spock felt the acidic bite and burn of uncontrolled rage and the sulphuric rock in his belly rolled over and dug into him well before they walked passed the pen contained 269.

The smoke grey mare looked wrung out, backed into the far corner of the pen, skin slicked with sweat and shivering violently. Her ears pinned and every muscle wound taught in taut steel coils. Her breathing was wrecked and broken.

Spock felt the fury not his own slice into him, renewed at the close proximity to it's origins. The bay stiffened slightly at Spock's suddenly dissolved contentment before swinging his elegant head around to look in the mare's direction.

The smoke grey horse glared out at Spock and the bay, eye glazed, tortured and hateful.

_Tor ri glazhau na'veh ..._

The Morgan nickered softly, calling to the mare.

269 exploded, lunging at the pipe fencing with a scream, slamming so hard into the metal that it groaned.

_T'kona!_

Horses and people all around her that had become to used to the exhusted quiet from 269 lept and bolted in surprise.

Spock tightened his grip and staggered slightly when the Morgan jumped back, looking startled, sliding around and hiding slightly behind Spock. The hybrid lightly touched the gelding's cheek but his focus stayed on the grey mare and she lashed out at the bars, chest heaving.

_T'kona! _

269 screamed, nearly foaming at the mouth. Feral and angry beyond anything Spock had ever sensed, his stomach cramping with the new assualt of psychonic fury. But through it all there was no denying that the distorted, twisted words hanging on that fury, forced out in a broken raspy whisper were Vulcan. Spock stared at the mare as she glared back heaving breath as she retreated to the corner of the pen and shivering violently stayed there.

He felt a tug and looked up. The Morgan looked back at Spock and made a soft, low noise before jerking his head around to look at the mare then back to Spock. The bay made a distressed noise and shifted in place. The bay took a few steps towards 269's pen tugging at Spock lightly to do the same before backing off.

The mare behind the bars narrowed her eyes, snorted and groaned warningly through her nostrils but did no more.

The Morgan looked down at Spock and made the same distressed noise. Spock took a breath shutting his eyes before for a moment of thought before letting a slow breath out, resolving something internally. Resolute Spock cast a last look towards 269 before urging the Morgan onwards after Cody and the dapple grey mare.

The Morgan followed dutifully but not without looking back and nickering over his shoulder towards 269.

They made way down the slope, weaving through parked pick up and trailers and straggling humans before breaking onto open grass again and started down towards the Big Horn and the air-ride.

McCoy was asleep in his chair, a hard cover book spread open on his lap, the pages quietly catching the breeze and turning over by themselves.

Joanna was dozing in the chair next to him, bundled up under a red and brown Navajo woven blanket that Cody left in the truck for such purposes. Nemo A534 was sitting up at attention, he woofed softly up at their return and took it as a sign that he could be at ease and sank down onto his belly, dropping his muzzle on his paws.

The group of newly purchased horses were busying themselves with their full hay nets and watching Jim with ricked ears.

Spock realized suddenly why Jim had not returned.

The blonde was giving the Oldenburg filly a low impact workout in a wide slope of grass near by. Taking her in easy circles and slow walks, working on keeping her calm and on bit, balanced and rounded out. Occasionally she tossed or jerked her head, kicked her heels or tensed up but Jim would gently see her through it to calm again. He was already laying the foundation to a new confidence and self-assuridness in the pale chestnut, teaching her that she could trust him, even in this tense environment.

He glanced up at their approach, offering a light smile and dropped the Oldenburg mare down to a walk and started towards them. Cody moved on with the Foxtrotter in tow but Spock stalled and waited for his approach. The Oldenburg stiffened slightly but the Morgan nickered lightly at her and the flighty filly moved more confidently forwards.

"So you ended up with the Morgan, huh? Great job Spock. You and him fit." Jim praised.

"Indeed."

Jim's eyebrow cocked up, catching something in Spock's undertone that others would have missed. For a second a series of tiny twitches and thought roared across Jim's visage before they settled into a more neutral design.

The young hybrid braced for an onslaught of questions.

"Want to go for a little walk? You should probably let him rest but a stroll on the bank shouldn't tire him out to much more than he already is." Jim jerked his head towards the bay gelding in Spock's grip. "You can go bareback with the Western bridle."

Spock knew that once Jim got him alone it was very unlikely that the blonde would walk away from their small excursion without having heard the hybrid's most prominent thoughts. He hesitated for a moment before deciding that Jim was more than trust worthy and it was probably a matter he would be sympathetic towards.

"I would find that most agreeable."

"Alright. I'll wait." Jim relaxed into the English saddle and lightly passed a hand over the Oldenburg's shoulder. Spock led the Morgan down towards the temporary paddock and tied horses were Cody had already untacked the Foxtrotter cross and tied her with a blue rope halter and braided lead. He took up the Western bridle, stripped the cotton halter lead from the bay gelding and slipped the bridle into place. He quickly signed to Cody what was happening before vaulting up onto the bay's back.

He settled his seat comfortably and turned to walk slightly up the slope towards Jim and the Oldenburg before changing to make and interception and Jim walked down it.

Spock and the bay followed on the pale chestnut's heels, walking through a small array of vehicles before hitting open grass and Jim paused until Spock was even and they road in tandem down the slope into long grass and on towards the lake shore.

The wind had kicked up some and the low, dark cloud cover was rolling, promising another storm sooner than later.

The grass rippled and churned under the wind, looking down into it Spock could not see the Morgan or Oldenburg's hooves sunk into the over growth. The air was cooler as it came up off the lake surface and the hybrid was thankful for the layer up shirts under his hooded sweatshirt, the steady warmth of the gelding under him and the added buffer of Jim and the mare between him and brunt of the breeze.

Jim turned their course until they walked down onto a shore of crushed gravel and sand and larger stones. They stayed well on the edge were grass met the shore to prevent any slips or ankles twisting stumbling over rocks. The sound of the water slapping rhythmically against the bank made the Oldenburg nervous but as the Morgan seemed to pay it no mind and Jim soothed her quietly she settled and soon forgot about it all together, focused on their path a head.

Spock looked on and realized this was a kind of trail ride. That this was his first ride simply for the pleasure of it. Every time he'd mounted a horse before this had been in training and building experience. He'd only ventured from the covered arena of Native Sky a few times and had always been into a enclosed paddock. There were no fences here and no expectations. No work or lessons in the traditional sense to be learned.

Spock found the experience oddly freeing and he relaxed some, for the first time while mounted turning his attention and focus outwards in stead of inward. The quiet slosh of the lake and cool air, the world slightly dimmed by the heavy cloud cover. The air hung with the thick aroma of the sweet grass drying out and the crisp cold of the dark water, it mingled with the scent of the horses and he caught the drift of Jim's milk and spiced honey scent, drifting off his wheat gold hair. The air was filled the low rush of the light wind in his ears and the distant call of some shore bird well out of sight.

The surroundings and the leisurely walk was more appealing and peaceful than any of the ancient ruins or temples or red stone cliffs that his lost home had once provided generations of Vulcans for solitude, reflection and meditation.

The idea was slightly disquieting, that he would have given up those sacred places for something so idle and common as a cold lakeshore in the mountains of Montana. The Spock shook himself internally , it was not a decision he had to make between the two. One was gone.

Silence between them was comfortable but heavy and when Jim spoke it was a low, quiet tenor.

"Figured out what you're going to name him yet?"

An innocent enough question that Spock new too well as one of Jim's many opening gambits. But unlike those quiet chess games or conversations, in this instance Spock did nothing to try and analyze the method or movement. He had no intention of resisting or trying to make his own victory.

"He has been provided with a name at his birth and is registered in multiple databases with it."

"And?"

"Touchstone."

"Touchstone? Not bad."

"I am under the belief that it is Shakespearian." Spock said quietly.

"Oh? Why's that?"

"Upon reviewing his pedigree it came to my attention that his sire's name was The Duke and his dame Le Beau. His grandsire's name was As You Like It."

"Right. '_As You Like It'_, one of the character's names was 'Touchstone'."

"As were the other names. Le Beau was a courtier to Fredrick who had usurped the exiled Duke. I am under the impression that Miss Hill was very fond of Shakespearian works and possibly all of her horses are named in honor of his plays. Or she is simply following a tradition as according to Touchstone's pedigree the founding stallion of her stock was named 'Shakespeare'."

Jim quirked his lips slightly. "We horse people are nothing it not traditionalists. So you're going to keep calling him Touchstone?"

"In a way."

Jim waited and when Spock did not reciprocate he prompted the hybrid. "Go on."

"The name 'Touchstone' is one that can be translated into Vulcan." Spock said somewhat reluctantly, waiting for Jim's judgement.

"Well let's hear it."

"Estuhl'kov."

"Okay. Again."

"Estuhl'kov."

"One more time."

"Estuhl'kov."

Jim paused a second as if rolling the name around in his mouth.

"Estuhl'kov."

Spock blinked at the clarity and ease that Jim pronounced the name. It did not hold the same grace that it would had it been spoken by someone of his species but it was very close to being perfectly performed.

"I was unaware that you spoke Vulcan."

"I don't. I'm faking it." The blonde offered him a small smile. "But as far as I can tell Vulcan sounds alot like some of the Native languages I can speak. So I can fake it if I've heard the word a few times. Once I start calling him by his name it'll clean up."

Spock nodded slightly and under him Estuhl'kov nickered when the hybrid passed a hand absently over his withers.

"And have you come on a decision for the Oldenburg?" Spock prompted.

"Well, see there's another one of those traditions. For Oldenburgs it's pretty much set in stone that a pure blood is named with the first letter of the name of one of their parents. Fillies always named after the dame and colts after the sire. I contacted the Verband earlier and passed on her life number and they sent me back her pedigree."

Jim patted the pale chestnut's shoulder lightly.

"Evidently she went wayward when a breeder passed away in a stable fire. The state took over and sold the surviving horses off and they all kind of got lost in the system. But according to her pedigree her bloodline's been bred back to Donnerhall about twelve different times through the mares High Noon 15 and Hallo and a stud named Don Primero. Her name's Hellebore out of a mare name Heliotrope."

"Unusual."

"Hellebore and Heliotrope are poisonous plants." Jim quirked his lips. "Maybe the bloodline had a habit of fits or bad manners or something. We'll have to see after she calms down."

"Are you going to keep the name?"

"We'll see." Jim shrugged a shoulder. Hellebore snorted softly, as she was now she seemed to have no vices at all save for anxiety.

They walked on in silence for a time, leaving the sale faire behind and breathing easily in the quiet in still, cool air. It gave Spock a bit of a chill and agitated 269's rock of sulphur in his gut. Reminding him that time wasn't going to wait for him. He looked out passed Jim's shoulder over the water.

Estuhl'kov gave a slight tug of the bit and double stepped as if to get a head of Hellebore. The gelding nickered and looked out into the water.

"Must be thirsty." Jim said absently before lightly turning the Oldenburg to the side and started down the bank to the water's edge.

The bay gelding waited for Spock's cue before moving to follow but snorted happily, tossing his head and walking right passed Jim and Hellebore into the water.

Spock started and the Morgan stopped moving instantly, twisting to look back at Spock and nickered softly in assurance but went no deeper. Spock felt some agitation, oddly isolated in cold water that lapped at Estuhl'kov's knees. His tail floating lightly on the surface of the water.

"Well, somebody likes water."

"I do not think it is particularly wise to continue into lake." Spock called back over his shoulder. Jim had coaxed Hellebore into the water until the nervous horse refused to go further, stopping so it only reached to her heels. The Oldenburg filly nickered nervously after the Morgan.

"I think he's figured that out. He doesn't want to scare you anymore than you want to scare him. He stopped moving when you tensed up, right?" Jim assured. Spock nodded curtly. "Just relax. I think he's having a little fun because he's happy."

Spock hesitated before carefully skating his fingers over the Morgan's shoulder. The light pulse of the gelding's mind was dominated by a sense of peace and ease, though he was near exhausted the horse was content, only a slight twinge of what could have passed for concern hummed over the animal's consciousness. Spock knew in an instant, the concern was centered around him. In this gelding's mind he didn't have a true identity yet. He was an obscure thought that was only just beginning to develop and define but Estuhl'kov knew enough that his excursion out into the water had spooked Spock and he had no desire to cause the hybrid any more distress.

In an instant Spock relaxed and threaded his fingers through the dark mane.

Estuhl'kov sighed and breathed out across the water surface, making ripples

"You are correct." Spock said somewhat sullenly. "I should not have believed he would cause me intentional harm."

"Spock you've known Kov for a maybe five hours and only really ridden him once before now. You don't know everything about each other yet." Jim gently coaxed the nervous mare to pick her way through the shallows to stand next to them in the equine knee deep water. "It takes time. Just like any partnership. You're each going to make mistakes and its going to be a little rough at first but then before you know it you'll be inside each other's heads and anticipating each other's moves."

Spock nodded.

Estuhl'kov nickered and dunked his nose under the surface of the water and blew several bubbles before pulling his head back up and started playing with the surface of the cold water.

"Yup. That's a fish if I ever saw one. I'd bet if he thought you were up for it he's swim right out there with you." Jim smiled lightly.

The Morgan shifted until he was balanced on three hooves and lifted his left foreleg to paw repeatedly at the water, splashing loudly. Hellebore jumped nervously but calmed before glaring at Estuhl'kov with an unhappy snort and pinned ears.

Spock lightly stroked the gelding's shoulder until he set all four hooves back down into the lake and dipped his head and sucked water lightly. Hellebore did the same.

Silence hung again before it was broken by a low whooping call from somewhere far off on the water. It rose in a repeated warble.

"Loon." Jim said quietly.

"Jim..."

The blonde tilted his head without turning to look towards the hybrid.

"Cody expressed to me what it was to meet the _Mitawa Sukawaka_. That it would speak to you... I believe I have experienced this. Today."

Jim was quiet for a moment.

"And it's not Kov, is it?" Jim asked.

Instantly an overpowering flood of irrational emotion swept through Spock and the bay stiffened, startled by the sudden change. The thought of returning the horse for another lanced a betrayal through Spock's core that threatened to over shadow the burn of 269's fury still lodged in his gut. It tightened and a flurry of possessive and jealous fear swept through him.

He wove his fingers into the black man, his touch light but slightly shaken. The Morgan nickered softly and stretched around until his nose was pressed into Spock's knee.

"I'll not give him up." The hybrid said quietly.

"Not even remotely what I was thinking." Jim assured and reached out to light a hand on Spock's shoulder. Just resting lightly, laying his palm in place and the cool touch soothed away whatever he blonde's words had not.

"Just talk to me because if there's something we need to do here we're running out of time to do it, Spock." Jim coaxed.

"I... Jim... I felt her anger. It runs deep. It was all she had to feel or give. And I believe she spoke... in a way... and when she did it was my native language. The words were Vulcan."

Jim took a slow breath and kept his hand firmly on Spock's shoulder. His thumb dipping into Spock's collar bone. There was a light hum of anticipation, of knowing and understanding coiling up from Jim's skin. The thoughts slightly muffled, mingling oddly with the impressions of Estuhl'kov coiling up through his palms.

Spock could sense that it was likely that Jim knew what Spock was going to say next,

"It was Two-six-nine."

Jim let out a sigh and Spock found it difficult to look towards the blonde.

"Spock that mare is dangerous. She's been hurt. Hell she's probably so messed up she doesn't know how to be okay anymore... Sometimes, just like people, a horse can get so hurt they change, they... they can't function. It's like they're lost, drowning and can't find their way to the surface so they fight harder and harder until they give out. Sometimes you can pull them out of the water and they'll keep fighting and drowning, not matter what you try and tell them..."

"It is an illogical course to pursue."

"Probably." Jim offered. "But I believe you. When you say this mare spoke to you I believe you. So we don't have a lot of time. And we can try... _if_ she'll take a halter. If you can put a halter on her and lead her we'll try. But _you_ have to do it. She spoke to you. That means something. So you put a halter on her and we'll try."

Spock felt a kind of loosening and tightening in tandem in his core before he nodded, "Very well."

"Alright. We better move. That supernova's minutes are numbered."

Jim turned Hellebore around and started her slowly up the bank and into the grass. The Morgan followed and it was only when they were on solid earth again that Jim urged the filly into a lope and Estuhl'kov picked up the pace just as easily.

The two horses sensed some kind of urgency in their riders choice. It agitated Hellebore to a point that she was kicking her heels but Estuhl'kov stayed calm, throwing his ears forwards and arching is neck deeply until is chin near touched his chest. He nickered at the filly, assuring her and taking a bit of a lead.

Jim allowed it, letting the Morgan act as a surrogate conduit for confidence for a time. The bay charged up the slope, with a little of Spock's direction looping around from down hill and avoiding the maze of personal transports and loping in from the far side of their small camp.

The Morgan checked his pace at the slightest shift of Spock's weight and touch of the reins. Hellebore skidded, side stepping anxiously and blowing loudly.

Nemo A534 sat up straighter and Cody and McCoy were sitting next to each other. The doctor roused and working his way through another bottle of juice. They glanced up at the two riders.

McCoy huffed. "Enough with the dramat-"

The doctor caught sight of the determined look on the two officer's faces and came to attention. It set off Cody.

"What happened?" The doctor asked sharply and started to push himself up.

_**Jim?**_

"We're going to do something stupid. Cody, untack Hellebore please." Jim said quickly and tied the nervous filly next to the sabino Trakehner cross, Windjammer and Spock loosely looped the reins of the Western bridle next to the Appaloosa cow pony, Rockhound.

The Morgan nickered loudly. and side stepped, trying to keep Spock in sight while the hybrid quickly dug into the rig box and pulled out a blue rope halter and a lead rope.

"Jim. What's going on?" McCoy asked sharply.

_**That's what I would like to know?**_ Cody signed sharply and pushed herself up out of the chair.

"Doctor is would be much appreciated if you would provide Estuhl'kov with fodder and relieve him of the bridle in favor of a halter."

The older man blinked. "Give who a what?"

"Bones! Feed the Morgan! Cody, please handle Hellebore." Jim dug into the rig box and grabbed a handful of horse treats stuffing them into a jeans pocket and he and the hybrid started up the slope back towards the pens and arena. They strode side by side for a moment before with a snort Jim broke into a long stride run and Spock matched him easily.

Cody shook her head and signed something that might have been a curse. McCoy huffed and followed on her heels, moving around towards Estuhl'kov while Cody went to the Oldenburg.

Spock and Kirk moved with an urgency, efficiently meeting each other perfectly in a way that reminded Spock of their partnership on the _Enterprise_, at least of the missions and time spent together before the incident with the Corsa people on Charus XI. When a dun colt had been slaughtered for a feast and Jim had nearly lost his mind of the sacrilege of it.

They had lost something then. After that their steps had not matched correctly and their minds had worked against one another minimally.

For a moment, of completely like mind and intention, Spock felt part of that stolen alignment returned.

He was reluctant to put his thoughts on it aside but something more pressing had taken his attention.

The rock of sulphur that 269 had left in his gut had quieted and the sharpness of it's bite dulled.

Even from this small alteration Spock knew in an instant that something was wrong The anger had subsided some and was now laced with raw fear.

The blonde and hybrid dashed around the columns of pens and raced down the second one. Spock let a breath slip from his chest when he spotted 269's form halfway down but his temper flared when he saw the mare pressed as flat back against the far wall of the enclosure, shaking with more than exhaustion and dehydration.

The mare was afraid. The primal emotion rolled through him like a toxin, slicing into raw wounds already made by the smoke grey mare's fury. Spock staggered and his stomach rolled over so harshly he felt the urge to vomit.

"Spock." Jim asked sharply, grabbing a hold of his bicep and hauling the half-Vulcan back up to his full height. The hybrid paused, gripping Jim's biceps and forearms tightly, anchoring himself and settling his rolling stomach. After a moment of calm Spock gently pushed him off, regaining himself and stalking forwards, Jim at his side.

There was a woman at the outer wall of the pen, her arms looped through the piping and leaning in. She's about Jim's height, a bulky frame for a female though she did not lack in curves. Her blonde hair was tied back severely and skin milk pale. Slung over her shoulder was a pink and black bag embroidered with the designs of a prancing horse and the words _High Flyer Arabians_ and contact information in the far south eastern corner of Montana. She wore a pair of designer jeans and a button down blouse shirt that was probably of the same maker though designed to seem old and vintage for fashion.

And 269 was terrified of her.

There was a time that Jim had spoken to Spock quietly and late into the night about the evils that plagued the horse culture. Abuse and neglect, stupidity and ignorance and other concepts but one among them had been fashion.

Fashion was an evil that spawned other evils. Fashion created large ornate bits that cut into the softness of a horse's mouth. Fashion made unbalanced metal shoes that warped the shape of a horse's heels and knees. Fashion made the bearing rein that tied a horse's head up and in place no matter their pace or weight they had to pull. Fashion made whips and crops, cuppers and blinders and all manner of other things that were meant to 'improve' and make a horse look 'fancy'.

Fashion, Jim had said, was a monster of a thing that had visited itself heavily on the horse and had never abandoned it's hold there.

It was illogical and wholly unethical to despise the woman on sight but coupled with what Jim had told him of fashion, the woman's expensive and severe appearance and the fear that 269 was projecting it was enough for Spock to wish the woman well away and never to be in his, Jim's or 269's presence again.

Jim must have sensed his slip in control and a light touch to Spock wrist sent a wash of cool comfort through him. Already compromised from the nearness to the volatile smoke grey mare Jim's small intrusion ran deeper than it had before. It eased Spock internally, like a balm to his spirit and seemed to sink deeper still, seeking out instinctively what of 269 was lodged in Spock's gut and cooled the acidic burn there as well.

Eased Spock regained his right mind enough to realized that the soothing intrusion was for him alone and was gratified that the young human recognized some threat in the blonde woman and held his own innate distaste for her.

Jim's finger's broke from the hybrid's wrist and he strode a head and approached the blonde woman boldly and seemingly with the same calm and cool he did any stranger.

"Excuse me."

The blonde looked around at him, her sharp dark eyes pausing to flick hungrily up and down Jim's frame and with all the image of a predator looking on at prey.

Spock was surprised his dislike could run deeper.

"Hey, sorry to bother you but is this mare yours?" Jim asked, his voice light and cordial.

"You interested in her?" The woman's voice was sickly sweet, like sugared arsenic and she arched her frame in a way that meant to show off her attributes and Spock suppressed a growl.

Between 269 and Jim, Spock's urge to merely banish the woman was quickly broiling down to one of elimination.

"Yeah." Jim hummed. "J. Tiberius Kirk." He offered his hand and she took it, holding on longer than Sock or Jim himself particularly liked and the young man had to carefully extract his hand.

"Janie Hippers."

"This is Spock Grayson."

"Oh yeah. You're that Vulcan that they've been talking around around the arena. Heard you could actually ride." Hippers cocked her head and bared her throat.

"Indeed."

Jim pressed in. "Your girl here has been making a lot of noise today."

Jim motioned towards the smoke grey mare. The jerk of his hand making 269 flinch and press closer to the far corner of her pen.

"High strung and a bad tempered." Hippers sneered slightly. "Guess her bad breeding caught up to her. She was really good for a few years, winning left and right but the pressure must have been to much for her."

The woman made it sound like it was the mare's fault and that did not sit well with Spock or Jim.

"Bad breeding?" Jim asked calmly.

"She's Quarab. Some AQHA reject got loose. When she dropped and looked the way she did I thought we might be able to make it work and for a while it did. Then that cow pony blood of hers caught up. Got to lunge her into the ground to make her even remotely ready to perform."

Jim's chin had lifted some. "That's too bad. She's not bad looking."

Hippers scoffed and the noise made 269 flinch and shake hard.

Spock could take no more.

"Miss Hippers, to be blunt I intent to purchase Two-six-nine from you regardless of her behavior." The hybrid said coolly. "I no longer find idle conversation logical-"

"He'll give you two hundred for her." Jim said quickly and Hippers snorted again.

"Two hundred? She may be a half-breed but the half that matters is old Arab blood line pure enough it goes back to the Bedouin Seglawi."

"But we both know that she's non-Asil. And if you were really worried about tradition you would have slit her throat before she hit the ground, right?" Jim shot back quietly. "He'll give you three, just for the pedigree."

"Three hundred." She snapped, whatever little good humor or indulgence she'd had gone entirely.

"Janie." Jim hummed. "Let's not kid ourselves. You and me both know we're just saving you the bullet."

It was said so low and quietly that it would have been seductive but the words that came out were laced with poison.

"So why don't you take three hundred. Turn around and walk away. And you never have to think of her again." Jim pressed. Clearly bullying the woman and had it been some other instance or event Spock would have intervened but now he wholly approved.

Hippers sneered, actually curling her lips to bare her teeth at Jim. In an instant Spock reciprocated instinctively feeding off the tension and swiftly spiraling out of control emotions around him. Spock ferally pulling his own lips back and let a low hiss ripple from his throat in warning. If Jim had any kind of distaste or surprise by the sudden loss of control he only stood straighter and crossed his arms over his chest, chin lifted.

Hippers backed off and Spock retreated as well, a spike of shame for his actions lancing through him, driven to a point closer to savagery than civility. And yet he harbored no regret.

The hybrid wondered briefly that if he looked upon himself in a Vulcan mirror would his reflection still be familiar. Would his father recognize the creature that readily sought the minds of animals for personal comfort, put aside the logic of his own self preservation to remain in a place that by climate alone could kill him and bared his teeth to females in the defense of a male and a horse that would sooner injure him than take his attention in kind.

"Fine. I get rid of her and get room for a real Arabian anyway." She said haughtily and dug into the bag and stripped out a thin manila folder, a pen and a data pad. In a matter of moments she's drawn up a bill of sale and signed over the documentation and shoved them into Jim's hands, not bothering to observe Spock sign them before sticking the pad under the hybrid's nose.

Spock barely had the time to approve the funds transfer before it was torn out of his hands and without looking back Hippers strode away with a swaying stance.

"Bitch." Jim snorted after her like and angry stud and Spock huffed his own quiet noise, trying to regain some of his right mind and Vulcan upbringing.

In the pen 269 gave an exhausted wheeze of a noise and relaxed, stepping away from the pipe fencing she'd crowded to stay away from her now former owner.

The odd trio looked after the blonde for a moment before Spock and Jim looked into the pen.

269 was still watching the blonde woman retreat before swinging her head around and noticed them watching her. The mare dropped her head, pinned her ears and snorted warningly before backing into the corner again. The burn of sulphur and fury flared back as the fear went out of her.

Jim sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair, physically showing what Spock had suddenly become aware of himself. The severity of the sudden situation glaring back at them and making low wheezing sounds that were as close to a growl as any horse could make.

* * *

**A/N: Once again: DO NOT USE THESE CHAPTERS AS A GUIDE TO BUY A HORSE!!!!! It's a very difficult and thorough process that involves a lot more than walking around a faire grounds and picking out what you think looks good. I repeat DO NOT USE THESE CHAPTERS AS A GUIDE TO BUY A HORSE.**

**Well, bit of a twist in there ending up with Spock and the Morgan and the Quarab all together. Originally it was supposed to be just Spock and the Quarab and I wrote in Estuhl'kov as just a test ride then really started to like the character and BOOM. Now we have a Vulcan and a Morgan and a Quarab... **

**On that note of Morgans, i have never owned a Morgan, do not own a Morgan now nor have I ever ridden a Morgan. I have two different cousins named Morgan but that's as close as it comes. BUT I have heard nothing but good things about Morgans and they really are tough little horses and they really can adapt to just about any job, from cattle work to dressage. And all the while they keep a good attitude and have a good personality. And yes I know the average height of a Morgan is between 13hh and 14hh with a few hitting 15hh, but Spock is a tall guy! He needs a tall horse so Estuhl'kov is a freak of nature at 17hh. **

**ALSO I have NOTHING against Arabians, Arabian crosses or Arabian owners/breederslovers at all. I grew up on an Appex Quarab and have encountered several great members of the breed but I have learned that mishandled or not properly trained an Arabian or Arab cross can become near impossible to handle safely ( but so can any other breed, it just seems worse with Arabs to me ). All that hot blood couped up in those slim bodies. BUT all in all they're a great breed and the modern horse breeds of the world owe a lot to them as they've influenced almost every breed in existence. **

**Anyway. Hope you guys enjoyed.**

**Vulcan Translation:**

**Tor ri glazhau na'veh - Do not look at me/one**

**T'kona - go from this place alone.**

**Estuhl'kov - Touchstone**

**And sorry about anything that slipped trough my editing on this one, I had a terrible headache all through and still do so... yeah... **

**Mary T. **


	15. Chapter 15

**NOTE: DO NOT USE THESE CHAPTERS AS A GUIDE TO BUY A HORSE! It's a very difficult and thorough process that involves a lot more than walking around a faire grounds and picking out what you think looks good. I repeat DO NOT USE THESE CHAPTERS AS A GUIDE TO BUY A HORSE.**

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**Summary: Mitawa Sukawaka Arch 3/3: **_**The dizzying emotions and tormented thoughts of the mare went through him like a shot and the hybrid shivered slightly but kept his hands in place...**_

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**Lost Horse Creek, Montana**

"**When you are lonely, let me be your companion. When you are tired, let me carry the load. When you need to learn, let me teach you… after all, I am your horse."**

**-Unknown**

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**Mitawa Sukawaka Arc Part Three **

**Chapter Fifteen: Broke**

_**"... If I'm not mistaken in my admittedly limited knowledge of equine psychology is not reasonably accurate, a stallion must first be broken before it can be trained to achieve it's full potential. Teaching it that it is not always in full command of a situation, is necessary to induce receptivity to directions. Does this not, in the end, make for a more successful racehorse?"**_

**- Spock, Chapter 14, Star Trek: The Novelization**

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_**Polson Rodeo and Fair Grounds**_

_**400 Lake Shore Drive,**_

_**Polson City, Flathead Lake , Flathead Indian Reservation, Mission Mountain Range, Rocky Mountains, Lake County, Montana**_

_**Stardate: 2260**_

_**October 28**_

_**1703 Hours**_

…

Spock hesitated for a moment before carefully and deliberately unchaining the catch keeping the outer piece of pipe fencing in place and with a light grip on the halter and lead, slipped in and towards 269.

Behind him Jim quickly pushed the gate shut again and set the chain back into place.

He paused, considering putting on the pair of cloth gloves snug in the back pocket of his jeans then decided against it and actually pushed up the sleeves of his layered long sleeves and AQHA hooded sweatshirt to his elbows. He shivered slightly at the newly exposed flesh to the cooler temperatures of the late Montana autumn.

"Spock." Jim said quietly. "Treat this like you've got all the time in the world. Just ease up on her and whenever she tenses step back and let her relax as much as she can before trying again. Don't lift your hands high and make sure she can see them all the time. If she rushes you... well... get out of the way as best you can but don't back off, you get it? Just real slow and quiet. Be honest with her. Tell her that you're not going to hurt her, she might not believe you but try. Just everything slow. Quiet and slow. Everything you do you've only got once chance. You can't screw up with her, she won't forgive you. Just... just do what... feels right. Right by her and right by you."

Spock nodded but didn't take his eyes off the mare. She was shaking hard, wheezing softly and glaring at the still unmoved hybrid.

"She is ill." She said quietly.

"She's stressed, dehydrated and out of her mind. It's why we have to do this right. If we can get her out of here we can get her to water and something to eat and away from this and maybe the strain won't stop her heart." Jim's voice stayed low and soft.

Spock's resolve solidified. "She will not expire for these reasons."

"Okay. Just slow and quiet." Jim urged gently and backed off some. He quickly flipped through the file. "Her registered name is HT Silver Pearl. Jumanah in Arabic. Go with 'Jumanah', it speaks to her blood better. Use that."

"These are not her name." Spock contradicted and took a slow, small step foward. The smoke grey mare pinned her ears flatter and rushed the air out of her nose harsher but stayed unchanged beyond that.

"It's on her papers-"

"It is not her name." The hybrid opposed again and Jim seemed to understand enough to shut the file and toss it onto the grass at his feet.

"Then what is it?" Jim pressed quietly.

"Khrash-yel."

"Khra... that's Vulcan.' Jim hummed. "What does it mean?"

"Supernova."

The blonde sighed. "Yeah. Lets perpetuate it... if anything it fits."

"It does." The hybrid returned quietly before easing another step forwards. The mare tensed and Spock instantly backed off the unwelcome advance.

Khrash-yel's head lifted and for a moment ears twitching forwards in confusion of Spock's actions. It was possible that in the mare's short life of five years that she had never encountered someone that when she made it clear she was uncomfortable by their nearness they would step back and let her be. The mare made a queasy noise and tilted her head with ears pinning again, eyes narrowed.

But Spock stayed back, his hands low but out from his sides. The hybrid's focus was tunneled down to the Quarab mare before him and the blonde at his back. He stayed relaxed and turned somewhat inwardly towards the rock of acidic anger, he circled it slowly, easing closer to it as he did it's source in life, moving only slightly and all the while flooding the cavity and raw wounds burned into his psyche with impressions of calm and content, soothing the mare mentally without truly knowing if she was benefitting from his psychonic actions.

Spock hoped quietly that if the mare was able to project so powerfully that she was in turn vulnerable to returned attention. Of course the notion perpetuated the idea that the mare was not entirely psi-null.

"Spock. Wake up."

Jim's voice pulled the hybrid upwards, towards the surface of his consciousness and back into the ravaged pen and angry Khrash-yel no more than ten feet from him.

"Nows not the best time to fall into a trance or meditate or something. You have to be _here. Now._" Jim urged gently. "She's had enough to people who consider her an afterthought."

Spock did not try and defend himself, only nodding slightly refocused himself on the smoke grey mare. He really looked at her.

She was thin. Her ribs and hips defined against her frame. There were a series of nicks and scars running up each leg though the rest of her was unblemished. She looked very much a full blooded Arabian horse, and when Spock quickly counted her ribs he deduced that she had much of the same skeletal structure of one. Though she was slightly bulkier in frame and Spock believe that given a good diet she would have filled out more that projected.

"She is very thin." He said quietly.

"Yeah. She's built bulkier than an Arabian. They probably kept her thin to fit in better." Jim reasoned.

Spock logged the information away but kept his attention on Khrash-yel. Watching as the confusion caused in the mare by Spock's actions started too take effect. She was used to people rushing in and trying to overpower her. Forcing themselves on her and forcing her will to bend to them and when she refused or fought they did their best to break it. Often succeeding.

None were so still and quiet. None moved so slowly. None waited on her.

It as confusing and unexpected. It was suspicious.

Suspicious was dangerous.

She shifted her weight anxiously before suddenly she trotted along the edge of the back wall of the pen. Sinking into a churned rut of dirt she's dug for herself. At the end of the pane of piping the mare turned tightly on her heels and trotted back along her path, careful not to turn her back on Spock. Though she was clearly exhausted, she lifted her head and tail high, ears pinned flat and kicking up her legs, every move trying to make her out as fit and healthy, warning Spock that he was in for a fight.

The hybrid did not need the display to know as much. He stayed where he was as the mare paced up and down the short track, showing her nerves and possibly fear but her fury was at the moment restrained. At least she had not flown at him yet.

The hybrid felt a tug at the back of his jeans, pulling him gently backwards and Spock stepped back though his Vulcan strength would have easily over powered the request.

"Step back and let her settle back down." Jim urged quietly, his fingers linked through the belt loops of Spock's jeans. "She doesn't understand what you're doing so it's making her suspicious and nervous. And here, before you really go in there and I can't reach you. They might not work but you never know."

Spock kept his eyes on the mare but felt Jim sliding half a handful of horse treats into one of his pockets before letting go of him and sliding back from the pipe fencing.

"I am further from her than when we began." Spock said but as he had backed off the mare stood along side the far barrier and watching Spock with a low head and pinned ears, nostrils flared and sucking.

"Well, this is really a one step forward and two steps back kind of thing." Jim rasped. "Some times you have to back off and other times you have to put pressure on them. She's not ready for pressure yet. Just let her breathe for a second. When you feel like she's ready move in again."

Spock nodded and waited calmly by as Khrash-yel seemed to settle, obviously still uncomfortable with the close quarters but she was no longer pacing.

While he stood Spock turned half of his awareness inwards to the rock of sulphur, it was no longer made of pure fury, it was laced with wariness and frustration and confusion. It was bleeding out into Spock's core and trying to over take his own fractured and corrupted emotional state. Spock mentally untangled himself and pushed Khrash-yel's influence back towards the scorched corner it had been residing in before erecting a chamber like shield around the intrusion. Spock breathed more comfortably, it became easier to think clearly and focus.

Behind the walls Khrash-yel's fury flared and lashed out sharply against the barrier, but it was raw and undisciplined, only seemingly reactive due to it's exposure to Spock's own mentality. The assault was minor and sloppy and did little than draw enough of the hybrid's attention that Spock gently poured a sense of pure tranquility into the enclosed space intending to douse the acidic burn. It only seemed to burn off the surface.

Spock was not relieved of the weight of the invader, it put him off balance, sitting below his core and across from his heart. But it wasn't inflicting damage beyond the small chamber anymore.

Spock took a deep breath and refocused on the smoke grey mare, watching where she stood far away from him but not crushed against the bars as she had been in the presence of her former owner. She was still watching Spock but it looked as if the strain was starting to catch up to her. Her head was lower, near touching the earth.

The hybrid slowly took a step forwards.

The mare's ears jerked forwards and her head lifted slightly. Before she could truly react Spock had eased forwards another few feet.

Khrash-yel threw her head up until her neck looked as if it was straining, ears pinned and nostrils and eyes wide, she blew loudly through her nose and lips, her slim chest heaving erratically. Her tail pressed low and muscles tensed. She swayed her back, hunching slightly on her heels.

Spock stopped in his approach and took a single step back.

"No more." Jim commanded quietly. "Stay there."

The mare's frustration started to ratchet up and she shifted, moving back a step to put more distance between her and Spock. Her rear quarters collided with the pipe fencing and she kicked out viciously and lurched forwards a half stride. Spock tense ready to get out of the way but Khrash-yel skidded to a stop before she came to close and ears pinned flat backed up again, tensed and hunched up she, was shaking hard.

The hybrid stayed still, waiting, staying calm and quiet before her physically and internally tried to sooth the fury.

Spock was unsure if it was wise to act before the mare had calmed significantly but he moved forwards slowly. The Quarab threw her head up again, but now that he was laying the pressure on he wasn't going to back off. He eased forwards another step.

Khrash-yel backed up into the corner, dropped her head and pawed at the earth, tearing it up with her hoof and still Spock moved forwards.

"Talk to her. If you're going to do this now talk to her." Jim's voice sounded distant and rasped, as if it was hard for the blonde to speak.

The Quarab bobbed her head up and down harshly, jerking it in a spasmodic sweeping nod while her hooves skidded awkwardly under her.

Spock moved forwards again, slowly and lifting his hands just slightly and within he poured positive attention over the churning fury, fear and confusion chambered up below his core.

He wet his lips and spoke quietly, voice so low only the mare or another Vulcan could hear. "_Dungau fam nash-veh klau k'dular._"

She rocked back on her rear quarters, staggering and side stepping and her shoulder met metal with a smack of sweat laden flesh, she jerked back. Her breath was railroading in and out of her chest and throat in a harsh gasp and wheeze.

_"K'dular resha qual olozhikaik. K'dular ki'pinkau kah. Fai-tor kah-if shahtau. Ki'nirsh nash-veh an'kharh t'k'dukar." _Spock carefully and honestly assured.

The mare whinnied shrilly in frustration, rocking back into an ungainly rear, forelegs boxing the air, head tossing. But Spock eased closer, stepping well into a point that he could be easily harmed. Lifting his empty hands up towards her.

"_Dungau fam nash-veh klau k'dular. Il dungau kal-tor wuh'ashiv nash-veh klau k'dular."_

The mare dropped back to all four hooves and pressed away from Spock, glaring at him, ears pinned and neck arched and tense as her breath rushed in wheezes and choked pulls.

_"Dungau ugau nash-veh k'dular t'nash-veh t'zaled... Khrash-yel, dungau fam nash-veh klau k'dular."_

The mare tossed and bobbed her head, heaving breath and convulsing slightly.

_"Hizhuk."_

The Quarab shivered harder, shaking all over and Spock stopped advancing, staying a few steps from the smoke grey mare.

_"Hizhuk, Khrash-yel Hizhuk... dungau fam nash-veh klau k'dular."_

The mare groaned softly and blinked at him, eyes half lidded with exhaustion and stress. Spock stayed where he was. Jim had always impressed the importance of the last step. That who made the last step dictated wither something was forced or done willingly. The hybrid had come well within reach of being hurt or touching the mare but he would not take the last step. He knew that if this must be done correctly Khrash-yel must come to him, come willingly. She must make the last step.

Carefully and slowly Spock twisted his wrists until his palms were up, the halter and lead rope looped and hanging from the crook of his right elbow.

He paused, recalling memories of the way Jim's hands moved, what they looked like and how they moved when coaxing a horse forwards. Spock breathed quietly before giving his fingertips the barest twitch. Another pause before his hands twitched again, mimicking Jim's movements from memory.

Khrash-yel eyed him, one ear flicking forwards and her weight shifting towards him.

Slowly Spock twisted his fingers into small, twitching rotations, rolling his wrists. The muscles and tendons twisting and pulling under thin, green flushed skin as he made the slight but powerful movements, speaking to the smoke grey mare. The air cross his palms felt charged and crackled, making the hypersensitive skin itch and hum. Had he looked down he might have recognized some strange hybrid of the whispered native language of the horse mingling with ancient Vulcan written along his bones and pooling in the hollows of his wrists.

_"Sarlah, Khrash-yel. Sarlah."_ He whispered, the words barely above a breath and both of Khrash-ye's ears pricked forwards, her breathing quieting.

The mare made a low, queasy groan before a low snort and gingerly shifted her weight towards him before carefully taking a full step completely into Spock's space.

The hybrid let out a soft breath. Looking down at the smoke grey Quarab standing before him. Her head poised between his upturned palms. Spock dared not move. Letting the mare stand before her carefully moved his hands until they were hovering over her skin, not touching but skimming over the sweat slicked flesh along her jaw.

The thrum of exhaustion dulled fury was over shadowed by confusion and unsurity and possibly a bit of defeat. Spock paused before very lightly bringing his fingers and palms into contact with the mare's skin. She jumped, stiffening and snorting but didn't step away. Spock stayed still, waiting until her head dropped back a bit before raising his hands to touch again. The dizzying emotions and tormented thoughts of the mare went through him like a shot and the hybrid shivered slightly but kept his hands in place, just laying his touch on her before carefully making short, slow strokes, down the curve of her jaw, petting the rounded cheek.

Her head dropped lower and ears swayed a bit.

Spock slowly pulled his right arm away and carefully shook the halter and lead rope down into his palm. She jumped and snorted softly, pinning her ears.

_"Hizhuk. Khrash-yel."_ Spock soothed before he carefully stepped around to the mare's side. The Quarab arched her neck tensely, ears pinned and nostrils flaring. She shifted slightly away from him.

_"Hizhuk." _Spock coaxed gently and she stayed tense and snorting softly but didn't move away. The hybrid carefully sorted out the rope halter and very gingerly lifted the loop of the noseband.

She made a soft, unhappy noise but allowed Spock to slowly fit it into place over her muzzle. Painstakingly slow Spock then reached over her neck and snagged the loose ends of the rope halter and pulled it around behind her ears before she could change her mind and he efficiently tied the ends through the loop on the other side and secured the halter into place.

Spock let out a breath that felt as if it had been lodged in his chest since he stepped into the pen with Khrash-yel.

"Perfect Spock."

Jim's voice made the mare jump slightly and the hybrid remember there were other beings in the universe. Spock broke his gaze from the Quarab for the first time and set his gaze on Jim and drank him in. The blonde's face was soft, open and raw, as if Jim had been inside of Spock's skin with him through the whole trial. His silver eyes were feral and sharp but flooded relief and hope, his breath was actually coming in pants.

"Just perfect." Jim praised again. "Lets get her out of here. Keep a hold on the lead right under her chin and she she starts tensing up and trying to pull you around just walk her in a circle until she calms down a little then walk her again. We've got to get her to water, right now."

Spock nodded and gripped the lead rope at the chin loop of the rope halter and stood next to the mare as Jim lifted the file of paperwork from the earth, unchained and pulled open the pen.

Spock noticed for the first time that a good sized crowd had taken up residence, lingering at the edge of what they believed was an acceptable amount of space. Looking on with interest, surprised and in some cases awe and impressed airs.

Spock disregarded their presence. The only beings that mattered at the moment were Jim and Khrash-yel.

The mare tensed up when the pen was opened and she moved forwards, tugging at Spock's hand but the hybrid immediately followed he blonde's advice and gently pulled the mare around into a tight circle. Khrash-yel's heels kicked nervously and she tugged sharply at his hand and swung her rear outwards awkwardly, skidding her hooves and tossing her tail as she snorted nervously.

_"Hizhuk_." Spock soothed and gently pulled her head down towards her chest, surprising the smoke grey mare who was to used to the strength of humans that the amplified power behind Spock's movements. She put up a bit more of a fuss, snorting irritably but took the circles, dancing nervously around Spock as if he was a pin in the earth.

_"Khrash-yel, hizhuk."_ The hybrid coaxed and slowly the Quarab started to settle and relax into the repeated circles and slowed from the lurching, jumping dance into a more flat foot walk. Mid turn Spock stepped out, giving a light pull of the lead and startling Khrash-yel enough that she snorted and quickly walked after him. She skipped anxiously and blew breath loudly through her nose as Spock led her out of the pen and down the aisle. Every muscle was tensed, coiling oddly on her skeleton. She tugged sharply as Spock's hand restlessly, sidestepping and dancing in place. Every time her tension wound to tight Spock gently pulled her head down towards her chest and turned her in a series of small circles around him, speaking quietly until she relaxed some and he brought her into a straight walk again.

All the while Jim pacing just a head and to the side, assuring and praising them both.

"Keep it up Spock." Jim hummed quietly, silver eyes flickering from the hybrid to the horse to their path. He was effectively clearing on lookers out of the way, waving them back. "Just stay with her."

Spock didn't respond, keeping his attention favored towards the smoke grey mare instead. As they progressed off the grounds and onto the slope of grass and into the parked vehicles, Spock was beginning to feel the effects of motion sickness due to the growing number of circles he took the Quarab in on their trek down towards the Big Horn and air-ride, but he held fast. Speaking quietly to the mare and continuing to pour positive psychonic energy into the chamber around Khrash-yel's fury and the space around it, trying to heal the burns the rage had caused at the edges of his core and psyche.

For all it was worth it did not improve Khrash-yel's attitude, though her pure fury had given way some to confusion and exhaustion, every time the mare bumped into Spock sending a fresh flare of her mind and emotions slicing through the touch telepath, when her matted and sweat slicked fur and rubbed against the hybrid's bare hands or forearms.

Spock breathed through each collision and gently urged the mare on. Carefully weaving through the parked personal vehicles, Jim having moved closer as support and when the Quarab seemed to tolerate him more.

Khrash-yel panicked when her hip collided with the front end of a truck and Spock had to dig in and pull her head down more forcefully than he would have liked. She plowed a head, dragging the hybrid forwards. Before she could truly lose control of herself Jim darted in, frightening the mare into leaping to the side and smacking bodily into Spock. The hybrid dug in and held his stance, grip flushing green on the lead rope.

A shock when through him when Jim's hand closed over the top of Spock's fist, his fingers threading around his own and linking through the chin ring of the halter. His palm slid over the ridge of his knuckles, slicked with Jim's sweat in a slightly gross and traumatically intimate way.

The contact was harsh, the grip far to tight and pulled sharply on his wrist.

It was not what a touch like this was meant to be. The touch of hands was a delicate and gently done thing, a caress that was meant to speak in ways that one could not verbally. It was meant to pass between a pair privately, mutually.

The way Jim's hand enclosed his was tight, dominant and all together feral. It was a twisted, fractured, _broken_ reflection of what it should have meant.

Because it was not meant for him.

"Bring her head down. Just dig in and bring her head down." Jim commanded, his voice steady and calm in a way the emotions roaring through their contact were not. Jim was flooded with basic, raw feeling that aligned with Spock's mental frequency all to easily but predominant was an overwhelming need to protect and preserve. To fight for lives not his own. For Khrash-yel's life.

For Spock's life.

It arced between them. Charged and scorching through Spock's skin and into his veins and tightening in the hollow of his wrist before running through his copper blood. It was overwhelming and swallowed him whole and in its dominance and strength Spock felt, for the first time since his early childhood, that he had reason to fear for his life, that he needed to be protected.

He felt Jim's hand pushing down, twisting his wrist slightly and trying to urge Spock to drop his arm. He didn't hesitate to pull downwards. Jim's fingers tightened around his, slowing and controlling his movements until they had effectively pulled the Quarab mare's head towards the earth until her nose was near level with her knees.

"Just hang on." Jim assured, his own grip iron and unmovable, woven around Spock's hand, the lead and chin ring. "Let her breath. Relax. Everyone just relax."

Khrash-yel tried to pull her head up, unable to continue her fit without her head free but between the two hominids she could only sidestep and shift, twisting slightly.

Jim's grip became impossibly tighter, molding his palm to Spock's knuckles and back of his hand. Sensation rushed down Spock's spine unhindered and flushed into his abdomen and around his core.

"We're okay." Jim soothed quietly, for a moment he lighted his free hand onto the arch of Khrash-yel's tense neck, then it dropped to lay across his Spock's forearm, well above their joined hands. It sent another flood of emotion rolling over Spock's undeniably compromised being and made him shiver. "Easy. Everyone just breathe easy. We're okay." Jim coaxed, his touch on the hybrid's forearm tightening slightly.

_I'm sorry_

Spock blinked, in the whirlwind of pulsing and thrashing emotions, a tangled knot of Jim's, Khrash-yel's and his own, the though had been unwaveringly clear and tame compared to the feral thunder surrounding it. The though was without true form or design, oddly free floating but it curled and rolled over in the nonexistent space between Spock's knuckles and Jim's palm.

_I'm sorry_

_Forgive me_

_Mitawa tokahe _

_I'm sorry _

Those thoughts alone tore a gap into Spock's core and shocked him out of his overwhelmed daze. 'Sorry'? Why 'sorry'? Did Jim understand? Aware of the violation?

"Everyone breathe. Breathe." Jim's grips tightened.

Spock forced the air out of his chest and nearly choked drawing in a sharp inhale, half the tightness and burn in the hollow of his chest relaxed and gave way immediately.

He hadn't been breathing. He heaved another broken inhale and exhale, the constriction in his ribs soothing marginally and he felt a rush of moist, heated air as Khrash-yel did the same.

It took Spock a moment to realize that he'd been holding his breath and reflecting him, so had Khrash-yel. As they settled into a smooth pattern of inhale and exhale Khrash-yel went still and tension flowed out of them both, soothing an ache they had inflicted on themselves.

It left them both slightly shaken, the mare shivering and Spock's breath hitching minutely.

Jim's grip over his hand relaxed, just enough that when Jim squeezed reassuringly Spock noticed.

"We're okay." Jim pressed quietly, lifting one hand from Spock's forearm but kept his other tangled around the hybrid's, the lead and through the chin ring of the halter. "Nothing's trying to eat us."

Khrash-yel blew loudly through her nose at the comment while Spock himself found it odd but didn't acknowledge it. It was a surprisingly comforting thought.

"Everybody just keep on breathing. We're okay."

"While it seems an illogical practice to continually repeat phases in a time of stress... I find I cannot object to your behavior." Spock rasped quietly.

Jim smiled gently. "Glad to see you back, Spock. Thought I lost you both for a minute."

Spock only swallowed visibly and puffed out a breath of sour tasting air and drawing in a fresh one. He knew Jim had been very literal in his last phrase. Spock in fact still felt detached and slightly unbalanced. The storm of fractured and foreign emotions still twisted and whirling through him had not dissipated and had put his world off kilter, though it had quieted enough for him to recognize his own thoughts from the other two. Though he couldn't consciously separate any of them, they were too tightly knotted together.

Spock puled back mentally, putting as much space between himself and the others as he possibly could, determined not to fall or allow the bridge of connection to run deeper than this odd sharing of their most basic emotions.

Spock tasted the protective surge still running strong from Jim and wound impossibly tight around it was the bitter metallic taste of Khrash-yel's fear, exhaustion and confusion. Braided into it was a haze of phantom pain and fury, bracing against her expectations of being reprimanded with some form of physical violence.

It made Spock's stomach roll and twist unpleasantly, he shut his eyes for a moment, feeling very much under attack from all sides. He was becoming lightheaded again, adding to his nausea.

"Spock, C'mon. Don't go anywhere. Stay here. We need you." Jim coaxed gently.

A pulse fluttered against Spock's psyche. Warm and light, the breath passed through a horse's nose. It flushed against his core and mind. Softening sharp edges and smoothing over cracks, easing his roiling stomach and fortifying him. It nosed lightly at him and blew even puffs of damp, warm air over his core and mentality, encouraging and grounding him.

Khrash-yel make a sickly, groan of a noise and Spock followed it back to the surface and reality. The Quarab mare was shaking hard and breathing heavily. A new, foreign nausea swept over Spock and fought with his own. With it came a hum of knowing and barely controlled fear or panic that tasted oddly like coffee and milk and spiced honey.

"Spock, we got to get this girl to water. Right now." Jim urged, voicing his emotions with a soft plead.

"Spock nodded, waiting for the blonde to disentangle his hand from around the hybrid's.

Jim only tugged gently, urging the relaxation to allow Khrash-yel to lift her head and get all of them into motion again. Spock and the mare staggered to follow the light, physical command. They started back down the slope, Jim's hand still woven tightly around Spock's, the lead and halter chin ring, moving steadily the hybrid's opposite on Khrash-yel's far side.

The emotions and jumbled thoughts lashing out as Spock seemed to settle a bit with the movement, detaching further as Spock was drawn away from the immaterial to the functioning of his body. His muscles ached and his spine felt out of alignment, shoulders taught and tense like strung wire, his skin felt too small and he was still light headed and nauseous.

"Jim, upon returning to the ranch I believe it would be in my best interest to seek isolation for a time." Spock admitted quietly.

"The only way you're going to get that is if you take a bath for a hour." Jim hummed, trying to lighten his voice against a strain and tension that reflected urgency.

"So be it." Spock agreed and Jim's lips twitched up halfheartedly as they urged the mare between them on gently as he steps started to stagger slightly and she blew heavily through her nose.

The slope dipped and the scattered trees, parked vehicles and items of their small camp came into view. The trio gave a simultaneous wheeze of relief.

Estuhl'kov twisted and danced in place where he was tied, nickering up at them.

Khrash-yel pinned her ears and blew loudly enough through her nose that it sounded like a growl.

Noticing the bay Morgan's action Cody looked up from between him and Rockhound caught sight of Jim, Spock and Khrash-yel and immediately jogged up the slope towards them.

"Papa! Look! They got another one!" Joanna cheered and tugged on her father's hooded sweatshirt sleeve. The older man looked up and paled.

"Awe, Christ! Jim!" McCoy barked, making the smoke grey mare start slightly. "What the Hell's wrong with ya! That thin's a killer!"

As if to prove him right Khrash-yel tugged sharply at the two hominids, dragging them forwards a step before snorting.

The doctor quickly scooped Joanna up form the ground next to him and pulled her back. Nemo A534 lurched up to his paws, side stepped until he was between the doctor and his daughter, the dog's ears cocked slightly in interest and confusion as the trio worked down into the camp, the five tied horses twisting and trying to get a look at the new arrival.

Nemo A534 woofed softly and leaped back when Khrash-yel lunged in his direction, dragging Jim and Spock forwards another step. The hybrid felt the mare's anger rush up over the exhaustion for a moment and Jim's hand tightened over his own, opening the already gaping channel between them a little more.

"Let's give her the benefit of the doubt that she hasn't actually _killed_ anybody, Bones." Jim panted, and shifting over as Cody rushed to meet them. The mare jumped sideways into Spock, trying to throw her head but the two males held on. Cody ducked under Jim's arm and wrapped her hand lightly into the lead rope below their combined grip, tightening her hold under her tawny skin paled across her knuckles and nodded towards the blonde.

Spock felt Jim's grip loosen and start to slide away and panicked. "Wait."

Instantly the blonde froze, his palm still laid across the hybrid's knuckles.

"Jim, you must realize that my mental integrity is compromised. " Spock explained quickly. "Through physical contact our emotional states have overlapped. The intensity of our combined states and prolonged exposure has created a threat, to dislodge so quickly may cause mental shock. Possibly in all of us."

Jim blinked as the words and ideas behind them and Spock braced for his judgement.

The blonde swallowed, dipped his head and his face wrought in guilt. _Guilt._

It twisted Spock's gut roughly, he forged a head, speaking before Jim could.

"If you pause only a moment, I will try to disentangle us."

Which the hybrid had been trying attempt for the last ten minutes.

"... Do what you have to do, Spock. Just let me know when and if you need anything." Jim agreed quietly and his hand tightened just slightly around the hybrid's own.

Spock nodded and turned his attention inwards, true disentanglement after this predicament would take time that they did not possess at the moment. Nor could it be done correctly in his compromised state. Spock stood at a kind of crossroads and in each direction lay a trauma of some sort. It was the lesser evil he was looking for, something he could endure until the time and strength came to right himself.

Spock resigned himself to compartmentalizing.

There was already a chamber low in his gut, surface hot to the touch and saving his core from further scorching from the sulphurous burn of Khrash-yel's fury. Adding more weight to it would set him off balance mentally and if it grew too large, physically. But there at least it would be well away from his psyche and wait to be purged in time. That left the unstable overlapping with Jim.

The heavy weight of Jim's emotions and mind was like a thick, coil of frayed rope. It was nothing like the fine, carefully woven threads that made up their delicately cultivated friendship. The connection between them knitted together with hard earned virtues of honesty and trust. It was sill newborn, still fledgling made of only two of countless virtues yet to be earned and merits marked with a new thread to add to the thin braid and a new understanding of the blonde.

A long way from a time spent standing only meters apart backed by a sea of cadets and barricaded by the Admiralty. Spock baring down on Jim with hackles bristled and a growl in his throat while the blonde had pinned his ears and kicked viciously when cornered.

Spock examined the thick, unraveling rope, feeling along it edges mentally, skimming passed the tangle of Khrash-yel's exhaustion, frustration and confusion wrapped around it, trying to see what the rope was made up of.

Fear... the knitting of the rope was fear and desperation and other harsh and intense emotions and ideas. Spock searched deeper, trying to gently dissect into one particularly frayed space and see under neath and the core of the rope. His pried gently at it, sensing the rope vibrate under his attention and physically Jim's gip tightened slightly over is knuckles. Spock dared not unravel the coil yet only shifted it around until the two, slim core threads of the rope arched up from the sawed strands. Gingerly Spck felt them out. they vibrated slightly, like the other two threads of Jim and Spock's connection, each with it's own frequency, though muffled under the weight of fear and desperation, determination and calm designed to restrain Khrash-yel.

Spock couldn't tell what they were, not until he unraveled the rope and freed the core threads to vibrate freely. Once the coil came undone the connection could be broken cleanly and safely, the lingering influence of Khrash-yel would have to wait until a later time but Spock could free Jim from him.

Steadying himself Spock dug into the knotted and small space between Khrash-yel's tangle and Jim's rope, fortified and pulling himself as far away as possible the hybrid dug in and gave a single, violent jerk, tearing it free.

On the physical plane Jim staggered, his stomach clenching and rolling in nausea and he winced, his hand tightened around Spock's as Cody steadied him. Khrash-yel herself jerked, lurching forwards with a startled noise, her front hooves slipping enough that the mare nearly fell before catching herself.

Sensing the physical distress through the tangled ropes and threads as the thick coil snapped harshly taught before going slack. The tangle of Khrash-yel's emotions wrapped around Spock's psyche and tore into the spectral flesh of the hybrid's mental hide, scorching and blistering it harshly.

Had another Vulcan or other species of empathic being fallen under the assualt they may have lashed out as harshly as they were attacked. But Spock only hunched slightly under the backlash before trying to sooth and calm the anxious mare's mentality, stroking the the knotted strands gingerly, unable to sit and untangle them as he would have liked and focused on easing their tension.

Agonizingly slowly, as the tangles and knots sawed into him, they relaxed and allowed the hybrid to pull them along gently towards the chamber near his core. He fractured the construction and ushered the tangle of emotions in towards the rock of fury. The tangle wrapped around the rock and melted into a single entity as Spock poured positive energy in with it and sealed the chamber, swiftly returning to the thick coil.

It was unraveling rapidly, cords snapping and echoing as they broke free. It was going to fast. Spock wrapped himself around it, bearing down and consciously slowing it's deterioration. The rapid fraying slowed and eventually ceased, twitching restlessly. Spock heaved a slow breath before very carefully taking up where the coil itself had left off, unweaving the heavier, thicker emotions, pulling them apart when before they had been snapping and breaking freely. The coil relaxed under his attention, loosening and coming apart, falling away and fading until all that was left was the core threads. The fine cords hummed and vibrated lightly, a frequency apart, Spock sensed all along their length from where it was loosely anchored in the hybrid's psyche to the point where if he went further he would drag Jim down in some kind of unintentional meld.

The threads strummed and vibrated quietly, barely moving unless Spock put light pressure on them. Like the strings of a lyre. The cords chimed gently, harmonizing with the twist of their existing connection. Their tone marred by the silent whisper of ancient unknown language that started to dribble off the threads in and into an ever growing pool, starting to gently flood the space. New drops falling and whispering free with each vibration of the fine cords.

It would have been terrifyingly easy to bind these two cords into the existing ones without Jim's consent. Spock shook himself, disgust rolling through his mind.

He felt a nudge, pressing gently at him. There was a slight impression, confusion and questioning. Spock started at the amount of consciousness, the level of awareness thrumming in and around those fine threads churning with the scent and taste of Jim's empathy that was far to advanced and clear to be truly considered psi-null.

It nudged again and that puff of warm air washed across him, that exhale through a horse's nose. Jim's subconscious. It questioned again, pressing him for a kind of clarification.

_What? Okay?_

The hybrid hesitated before dumbing down the frequency of his awareness and tried to impress and answer. That he held 'disgust' because of thinking of taking the cords without permission. That they were not meant for him and it was wrong.

There was a pause, a kind of a consideration or translation from Spock's more intricate thought processes to mach its own. It snorted with a kind of disbelief and sense of abusurdity, like an indulgent elder to a questioning youth. Then it nudged him over, closer to the cords. The threads twisted and hummed louder, they went slack and looped around him, tightening slightly.

_Keep it._

Spock gently pushed it back. 'Not mine, not given freely, not consciously offered'.

It nipped him sharply, a small shock of pain, like the teeth of a colt digging into his hip in reprimand, then blew a chest full of warm, damp air at him.

_Keep it. Yours._

But-

_Keep. It. Yours. YOURS._

Spock hesitated and felt the threatening heat of another promised nip before untangling the fine core threads and braided them into the fledgling friendship, doubling its size and strength, a thrumming pressure at the back of his psyche. Next to him that warm breath snorted, clearly satisfied and looked at him in a kind of quiet way that was eerily confused.

_Why?_

Spock returned a sense of confusion, aware that there was no denying that he was having a kind of conversation with Jim's most basic emotions and subconsciousness when he had previously done all possible not to dive deeper into their unprompted overlap of psyches.

'Specify'

It cocked it's ears forwards and flush of confusion passed through Spock's mind before he muted his thoughts down again to that basic frequency. 'Why what'?

_Why not keep?_

'Was not offered freely. Was not given.'

It snorted. _How here if not given?_

Spock paused, turning the logic over. It sighed.

_Wolves think to much._

'Wolves?'

It snorted, breathed warmly across Spock's existence, assuring before it seemed to have given the last of its energy and started to slip away, splashing through the pool of collected, whispered language as the pool itself warmed and evaporated away slowly. The hybrid nearly reached out to pull it back, before recoiling and allowing the oddly aware consciousness to fade completely. He hesitated before resurfacing as Jim carefully unwrapped his hand from around Spock's. He worked the stiff muscles and numbness out of the appendage as he stepped away cautiously.

"Are you okay, Spock?"

The hybrid was slightly dazed, head buzzing and exhausted but he nodded slightly. It cued Jim to jog away towards their cooler and rip open the lid, tugging out the bottled drinks and food items among the melting ice. The bottles of water he tore open and poured directly into the cooler.

Cody eyed the hybrid from the place where Jim had been only moments before. The deaf rancher reached out and lightly touched Spock's shoulder through the thick fabric.

Spock jumped, making the smoke grey mare jerk and snort, but Cody pulled them back. She didn't sign or try to speak to him, only looking at him with a quirked eyebrow. Spock blinked slowly, tiredly and swallowed heavily. His attention snapping away and to Jim as the blonde pulled the cooler across the sloped earth, it sloshed and slopped water and rattled with half melted ice.

"This'll have to work out." The blonde puffed, and stopped pulling when Khrash-yel tugged anxiously away from the strange noises. "Bring her up."

Cody gave a light tug to the lead rope and urged Spock and the Quarab forwards. The mare resisted but allowed them to pull her along until they stood directly over the cooler. Spock and Cody tugged the mare's head down carefully, with a little silent encouragement she dropped her muzzle to sniff warily at the edges of the plastic container. Jim reached around and splashed his fingers in the shallow water. The mare jumped, jerking back until Jim had moved back.

Carefully the Quarab slunk forwards and dipped her muzzle into the icy water and started sucking greedily.

"Poor girl." Jim soothed, standing back and letting the horse drink, she pricked her ears towards his low voice. She only sucked the water, her throat rolling as she muscled down the liquid.

Cody relaxed her grip after a moment and stepped back, allowing Spock complete control of the mare, the hybrid slackened his grip to further own the lead and winced when his hand moved, the muscles cramped and the sensitive flesh of his palm raw and burned from the braided rope. Jim's eyes snapped to him at the barely audible hiss that slipped through the hybrid's teeth. Cerulean eyes narrowed and flashed silver but he didn't speak.

Her muscles were starting to relax, her ears still twitching and tightened around her jaw as she looked warily left and right for any kind of danger. She sighed without stopping her drinking, blowing bubbles in the shallow water.

"Jim-" McCoy asked warily, stilling Joanna when the child started to struggle in his arms.

"It's fine Bones." The blonde assured without looking around at the older male. "She's messed up but she's smart. She's already starting to figure things out."

McCoy hesitated before setting Joanna gingerly on the earth, the child hung close to his hip but seemed more content on her own two feet.

The mare huffed into the water and continued to drink. Spock reached out to light his hand on her shoulder. She jerked back, nervously, tensing but Spock moved forwards and gently settled his palm against her shoulder.

The mare's skin twitched and jerked, stiff under his palm and for a moment her mind roared with indecision and nervousness. But when Spock did nothing but keep his hand firmly in place she shifted forwards again and dropped her muzzle to suck up the lat of the water in the cooler.

Spock didn't move his hand, keeping it firmly in place and feeling the roll of muscle and jerk of skin under his hand.

A moment passed in silence while Khrash-yel sponged the last drops of water off the plastic alloy bottom of the cooler with a disappointed sigh before resorting to pulling chunks of ice between her teeth and crunched them in a desperate kind of way.

A look of overwhelming pity crossed Jim and Cody's faces, the blonde running a hand through his lengthening hair and Cody sweeping off her Stetson and scratched at her ear and jaw before replacing the hat. They made an identical movement, folding their arms tightly over their chests then looked at one another from the corner of their eyes.

There was no mistaking that in the few seconds that they held each other's gaze an entire conversation passed between them, evidently Jim won whatever argument went on between them because Cody made a silent sigh and jerk of her head.

_**We better roll out before we get ourselves into any more trouble. Len, will ya and Joanna load up the gear, please**_

The older man nodded and nudged the child into movement. Nemo A534 looked after them before trotting out into the sloped grass and lied down several yards away from Spock, watching the mare and the hybrid with perked ears and an alert chocolate eye.

Cody gave a near snort as she turned and walked towards the other newly purchased horses that were all straining their head with ears cocked to better see the Quarab mare in Spock's control. Jim made a slight face before looking towards Spock.

"She it not pleased." Spock assumed quietly.

Jim hissed. "Understatement... Let's load Kresh Kreshup last so we can unload her first. For right now just stand there and let her eat ice, if she moved on to grass that's fine. Just stay with her, I'll handle Kov for you."

"Jim, this is a situation that I brought upon myself-"

"Doesn't matter." The blonde cut him off, lifting a palm in warning. "This isn't something you can do on your own and you know it. I'm going to help you. I said 'we'll' try. Alright? 'We' means doing stuff together. With a partner. Now you're Kresh's partner. And Kov's partner. They lean on you, they need you. And I'm your partner and you can lean on me. Understand?"

Spock must have looked at him far to long or his visage to exhausted because Jim prompted him again.

"Spock. Understand?"

"Yes."

Jim nodded, assured and walked over to collect Hellebore. He swiftly untied the Oldenburg mare's lead, taking the refilled hay net as well and turned her towards the trailer he paused and looked over at Spock across the filly's back.

"This isn't a burden. Or a mistake Spock. None of it."

He wasn't asking for a confirmation. He was telling. The blonde nodded to himself and Spock, like sealing a pact before leading the anxious filly off to be the first one loaded into the air-ride.

Joanna and her sire were packing away their small encampment while Cody was refilling the hay nets all over again, making up a sixth one for Khrash-yel with the last of the hay. The straw had been spread out on the flooring of the trailer.

Jim gently coaxed the filly up the ramp and disappeared into the trailer. McCoy was tossing the refolded and covered tailgate chairs into the bed of the Big Horn.

Spock felt a tug and the Quarab mare gave up on the ice and stepped away from his hand and started grazing roughly in the long growth and dying grass. She tore out massive mouthfuls of fodder, forcing them into her back teeth and choked them down, barely pausing to chew as she ripped out more.

The hybrid felt a sharp prick of disgust for the mare's condition, soothing it with an assurance that it would never again come to the frantic acts of survival of eating dying grass and chewing ice. He stepped closer and moved to touch her. She jumped slightly, but didn't pull her muzzle out of the grass, huffing into the blades and braced slightly when Spock settled his hand into the dip of the mare's spine behind her shoulder.

McCoy lifted Joanna up into the truck bed and handed the tack up to her. Letting the child do her best to situate the saddles, blankets and bridles. The doctor cautiously approached Spock and the mare, she swayed her ears.

"She is far more interested in consumption than she is in attacking you, Doctor." Spock assured.

McCoy snorted, rolled his eyes and tugged the cooler away, hefting it up and carrying it over to put the remainder of the food and bottled drinks ad heaved the much lighter container into the truck bed where Joanna shoved it around into place.

He lifted Joanna back down to the earth. When Cody whistled everyone snapped their attention around towards her, Khrash-yel jerking nervously.

_**Tarp that please. I don't like the weather. Jim, help him.**_

Cody signed as she untied Rockhound, took a hay net and led the Appaloosa away towards the ramp. Jim jogged around to the far side of the truck and between the two males unrolled the tarp cover from above the tool box, sweeping it out to cover the bed and secured it in place.

Spock allowed the Quarab mare to lead him a few steps further up the slope, Nemo A534 belly crawled after them, keeping his respectful but protective distance. She didn't flinch when Spock's hand fell back onto her spine and for a moment a flicker of contentment passed through before it was over shadowed by the the confusion and uncertainty and exhaustion thrumming through the touch.

Jim led the sabino Trakehner cross, Windjammer, up the ramp, followed by Cody and the nervous Foxtrotter cross.

The blonde dropped down off the ramp and started towards the Morgan. Estuhl'kov allowed him to untie the lead and hay net but stalled, looking back towards Spock. The bay nickered softly, reluctant to go without the hybrid.

Jim didn't try to drag the gelding along and looked up towards Spock and the Quarab. He gave a jerk of his head.

Spock read the cue, pulled the mare's head up, choked his hold up on the lead rope and gently urged the mare forwards them, immediately Estuhl'kov relaxed and easily followed Jim's lead. The Quarab snorted and kicked her heels unhappily but more or less walked along with him. They looped around to face the rear of the air-ride. Spock glanced in and saw the four horses, tied into their slanted 'stalls', barriers swung and locked into place with the last two waiting openly.

"Spock make sure she watches Kov go up, alright? It'll reassure her. And don't rush her to get in either." Jim instructed quietly.

The hybrid nodded and brought Khrash-yel around so she could look directly into the trailer and they stood back as jim guided the Morgan around and up the ramp. The bay followed him quietly, allowing the blonde to twist him to a slant along the barrier between him and the Foxtrotter cross. Jim lightly hung the hay net over a hook so it was suspended just below the open window. Then Jim tied the lead rope loosely onto a mounted hitch ring then nudged the gelding over as he swung the barrier into place and locked it securely.

From Spock's elbow Khrash-yel watched with pricked ears and a tenseness in her muscles. Jim stepped back down the ramp and out of the way. The Quarab mare nickered nervously and Estuhl'kov twisted around to arch his neck over the dip in the barrier and whinnied back at her. In response Windjammer and Rockhound snorted and Hellebore gave a high pitched whinny as well, echoing in the confines of the air-ride.

"Alright. Just take your time, if she pulls up stop and wait until she moves again." Jim urged, stepping back a little further. The hybrid nodded and gently urged Khrash-yel into moving. The mare walked with them, her body tightening with every step. When they reached the bottom of the ramp the Quarab stalled and Spock stopped next to her. Waiting patiently.

The mare breathed heavily and calmed slightly when she wasn't forced up the ramp and when Spock urged her on she gingerly stepped onto the slant of metal. It clanged loudly.

"Damn, she's got shoes." Jim spat and the mare tensed, huffing unhappily.

Spock paused, waiting until she relaxed some then coaxed her on. Each hoof fell onto the metal with a clang that made her flinch and Spock twitch. She stalled a third time just before urgently pushing Spock forwards and into the gap of space that made up the final stall. She muscled roughly into him and pranced in place while Spock stayed grounded and soothed her silently. The clatter of shod hooves on the straw strewn metal flooring would have sent the other flighty filly Hellebore into a panic but between the two hypersensitive horses were calmer horses.

The hybrid waited for the Quarab to calm, standing nervously before he gently pushed her forwards and in a swift movement tied her lead rope into the hitch ring. There was already a full hay net hung in place. He rustled the hay with his fingers, she jumped slightly before realizing what it was and shoved her nose into the hay, trying to devour it as quickly as she had the grass, promptly forgetting Spock's presence in favor of snapping at Estuhl'kov's friendly advances from the stall next to her.

The hybrid paused for a moment to skate his fingers over her shoulder and for it received a flicker of her mind, this time instead of contentment in the jumbled emotions there was a puff of warmth that seemed almost grateful.

Spock rubbed the tips of his fingers together before lowly, but boldly reached over Khrash-yel neck and brushed his fingers over the Morgan's nostrils. Estuhl'kov lips wrapped around them for a moment, sending the hybrid a pulse of comfort and pure affection. It soothed Spock mentally and physically.

Spock stepped back and down the ramp.

"Perfect, Spock." Jim praised, "If I didn't think you had something with that girl before I sure see it now. you've only been around her for forty five minutes and she's already ten times calmer than she was."

The blonde ran up the ramp, starling the Quarab slightly but she recovered and didn't flinch when Jim swung the trailer door closed and latched it into place.

Spock gingerly touched his raw palm. "You believe she may recover?"

Jim sighed quietly, his eyes flicking to Spock's abused hand. "Kind of early to tell but there's always hope."

Spock dipped his head in acceptance. And stepped around towards the erected temporary corral.

"Nope. Come here." Jim ordered, waving him to follow. The hybrid paused.

"Spock, move it. Rules are that who ever puts it up doesn't have to take it down anyway but get over here." Jim's tone was firm and Spock reluctantly followed as Jim walked around to the cab and motioned towards the back seat.

"Hope up on the edge." Jim said as quickly scooped up the grey blue and black medic bag that McCoy had previously attached to his hip.

"Jim, I-"

"Have a rope burn. Just sit." The blonde sighed at the look the hybrid gave him. "Spock, it's either me or Bones."

The threat clear Spock hesitated only a moment before climbing up into the seat. He perched lightly on the edge of the seat, knees turned out and hands folded delicately into his lap. Jim crouched and unzipped the bag digging into it and pulled out a roll of gauze bandaging, a small soft cloth towel, a small jar of a thick paste and a half pint of whiskey. Her hefted the small supplies onto the seat next to the hybrid.

"Good old Bones." Jim muttered and unscrewed the lid of the whiskey and gently nudged Spock's legs apart to stand between his knees. The hybrid tensed but said nothing.

"Give up your hand Spock." Jim urged.

The tension wrought deeper through the hybrid and he huddled his hand closer to his stomach. "Jim-"

"Spock."

They stood at a stalemate for a moment before Jim let out a soft puff of breath.

"Spock..." Jim sucked a breath. "I'm sorry about grabbing your hand earlier... I just didn't want her to drag you off or either of you getting hurt... I just reacted. I'm sorry."

The human was pleading softly.

Spock looked down into his lap. "You understand the violation that you committed... know of the significance of Vulcan hands. The sensitivity of them."

Jim flinched at the terms but gave a slight nod. "Yeah... I'm sorry."

Spock paused, tracing his raw palm with his uninjured fingers.

"When you acted it was only in the interest of Khrash-yel's and my own safety... you are forgiven."

Jim let out a heavy breath and offered a weak smile.

The hybrid hesitated for a moment longer before lifting and offering his raw hand to the blonde. Jim hesitated for a moment before before lifting one hand and delicately cradling Spock's in his palm, as if worried that Spock would shatter at his lightest touch. A buzz chattered across their connected skin and the slim braid of their fledgling connection thrummed quietly.

Jim gently tilted his hand to an angle and poised the bottle of alcohol over his raw palm.

"This is going to hurt." Jim warned before tipping the bottle and spilling whiskey across his abused skin.

Spock jerked as fire exploded across his hand, hissing and barely controlling a yelp, his face twisted in pain and Jim quickly set the bottle aside and pressed fingertips into the hollow of Spock's wrist, pressing down and slowing the blood through his veins.

"I warned you."

"These barbaric forms of medical practice have been replaced for good reason." The hybrid hissed.

"But why screw around with something that works, tested and proven." Jim hummed then lightly blew across Spock's hand. His warm breath soothed the burn and sent a ripple of sensation through Spock's systems and down his spine. The amber whiskey dribbled off Spock's skin tined slightly green as the raw flesh puckered and ruptured slightly.

The blonde reached around for the small cloth, and dabbed Spock's palm and hand dry. He scooped up the small jar and lightly opened it, unscrewing the lid and setting it aside. A sweet scent rose from it and Spock wrinkled his nose.

Jim's lips quirked slightly. "Its one of the miracle cures that Doc Rhado makes up for stuff like burns and rashes and irritants."

"It smells of honey."

"Honey, yarrow, little bit of modern stuff that Bones could tell you more about and bee poison."

Spock tensed. "Bee poison?"

"It numbs skin. You aren't allergic to bee stings are you?"

In the much time that his life that had been spent in medical labs and sick bays Spock had underwent multiple allergy tests and found that he was, oddly, without them with exception of a singular ailment.

"Save for penicillin I have no allergies."

"Penicillin? Really?" Jim hummed with a quirked eyebrow and dipped his fingers into the paste, working the component in his hand, warming it. "I'm allergic to that too. Erythromyocin too. But not bee poison. Wasp yes, bee no."

Spock lifted an eyebrow. "In addition to you other allergies."

"I'm just grateful I'm not allergic to horses or dogs or chocolate or leather. Building blocks of my life."

Jim carefully pressed the warmed paste into Spock's palm, carefully covering the abused skin and delicately circling his fingertips to press the concoction deeper into Spock's skin. Each small increase in pressure sending a small shock down Spock's spine to coil into his core and belly.

But it didn't last long. Withing a few seconds the skin went numb, his blood was still circulating but within a minute everything passed his wrist felt as if it didn't exist anymore. It was odd to be looking down at his own hand, being touched and twisted and not feel it.

"Fascinating." Spock tried to move his fingers, His thumb twitched but nothing more happened.

"Feels weird, right? When I dislocated my shoulder I couldn't feel it passed my collar bone but I knew there was pain there, it just wasn't connecting to my brain."

Spock straightened as Jim wiped the paste off on the cloth, Spock's hand was still cradled in one of Jim's own, unaware and unable to feel the blonde passing his thumb across his knuckles in comfort.

"I was unaware that you suffered such an injury... was it of your own doing?" He asked hesitantly, making Jim look up in surprise at the unexpected mention of his less than smooth childhood.

"Oh uh, yeah. No it... it wasn't like that. I dislocated my shoulder and split my shoulder plate when I was fourteen. I fell in a barrel race and the horse stepped on me because I fell under him. Most of my really big injuries and breaks happened with horses rodeoing or training." Jim assured.

"You have sustained many?"

"Yeah. Mostly stuff like pulled muscles and cracked or broken ribs. Sometimes its worse stuff. Broke my neck once trying to be a smart ass with a colt in a cross country run."

Spock stared at him. "You... broke your neck?"

"And almost drowned. Yeah, I was sixteen and I decided to do the whole year of just dressage and jumping and cross country and stuff instead of rodeoing. The colt was just sailing over everything then he went over a water jump and spooked halfway through, twisted and landed on top of me in the water. It was really scary because I felt kind of numb, couldn't really feel anything but I _knew _what had just happened to me. So I kind of just hung onto the saddle and the colt go to his feet and dragged me on land and the medic was already there. So they got me squared away before I stopped coughing up water." Jim seemed far more at ease in relating a story of nearly loosing his life twice over in the same moment than he was on speaking of surviving the heavy hand of a parent.

It astonished Spock and he was unaware that Jim had successfully wrapped his hand and secured the bandaging into place around his wrist.

"You broke your neck and nearly drowned under the weight of a horse?" The hybrid asked as he pulled his hand back into his lap, Jim let it go and tucked away the equipment into McCoy's medic bag and tossed it into the front seat.

"It was one of the worst crashes I'd ever had or had since. It was bad. I was laid up for almost two weeks, because they couldn't regenerate all my bones and nerves and I was on steroids and drugs and couldn't even ride for another whole week after that because i was detoxing."

Spock blinked at the bitterness in Jim's voice when me mentioned being barred from riding horses as compared to his casualness at being injured.

"It was horrible. And Winchester felt so bad after that he literally has never balked or refused a jump since then. Even if he's scared of it he pushes through and does it."

"Winchester was the colt involved in the accident?"

Jim nodded and leaned against the open door next to Spock's knee.

"You did not harbor a fear that the event would repeat itself?"

Jim shrugged one shoulder. "I couldn't blame him for what happened. He got scared. He couldn't help it. If I got scared in the captain's chair over something would you ever trust me again?"

"Of course."

"Well there you go."

Spock blinked and cocked his head slightly to the side. He twitched and looked over his shoulder as the other door opened and Nemo A534 leapt in then Joanna was lifted up by her sire, her data pad in hand.

"Thanks Papa."

"Seatbelt, Joanna." McCoy instructed and stood there until the child had secured her belt into place, the he locked and shut the door and Joanna leaned out the open window to watch him walk around to the passenger seat and climb in, pushing his medic bag to the floor with a thump.

"Guess you've got to move over there, Spock." Jim jerked his head and Spock pushed himself across the seat until Nemo A534 was pressed against his side and shoulder. Jim glanced briefly over his shoulder, sweeping his eyes over their small area a final time before heaving himself up next to Spock and swung the door shut, Cody shortly followed and climbed into the drivers seat, secured her seat belt and gunned the engine of the Big Horn into life.

The truck roared, vibrating and warming quickly under and around Spock as her and Jim fixed their own restrains into place and settled tiredly back against the seat. Jim was shifted against the door trying to give the hybrid some room.

Spock appreciated it and as the Big Horn dug it's way out and up the hill, weaving through other vehicles and pulling the air-ride behind smoothly he allowed his eyes to droop shut and his body to relax as exhaustion crept up on him.

There was a hesitation before Jim's hand lightly fell on his collar bone and squeezed gently through the fabric, the now familiar weight was comforting and Spock allowed his head to drop back against the seat and eyes to shut fully, knowing that the return ride to the ranch was a long and hopefully uneventful one, he fully intended to doze or perhaps meditate lightly in the quiet and secure confines of the cab.

"Why the Hell is yer hand wrapped up?" McCoy snarled sharply.

Jim and Spock let out simultaneous puffs of breath that passed for controlled sighs as McCoy twisted in his seat and roughly pulled Spock's arm up to inspect his hand.

Despite McCoy's harsh handling and questioning, Joanna staying wide awake through the ride and Jim trying to quietly defend his treatment of Spock's injury the ride went smoothly and more quickly that Spock anticipated their surroundings were familiar.

Cody cruised through Darby, drawing some attention in the late evening and easily drove through the small town, across the bridge and Lost Horse Creek before turning up into the mountain and following the long drive onto Native Sky territory, looped around the ranch house and ground to a stop and cut the engines.

Jim quickly unsnapped Nemo A534's prong collar and leash before a door opened, predicting correctly as the massive dog leapt down to the earth and took off at a gallop into the pastures, ducking around the stable barn and out of sight.

The group gave a collective breath of relief and piled out.

"Hey!"

They looked up. Casper was leaning against the railing of the wrap around porch and next to him Cokata had parked his wheel chair, both sported cups of steaming coffee in the fading and painted light.

"How'd it go?" Cokata woofed.

"Full house." Jim huffed.

"I got a pony!" Joanna shrieked happily as she bounded towards them and rushed for the kitchen door.

The two Chicalato brothers cheered her on jovially.

"Ya didn't get a pony, Joanna!" McCoy huffed exhaustedly.

"His name is Rockhound and he's a blue Appaloosa and I'm going to go tell Suri and Toweya!" Joanna dashed inside the door squealing at the top of her lungs.

"Damnit it all!" Her sire rushed to follow. The two brothers laughing quietly.

"Blue named Rockhound?" Casper questioned.

"One of Rimrock's out of Winding Tree." Jim assured.

"Joe Sik's place. Bet he had some good stock." Casper huffed.

"Probably but Casey Kaysum got there first." Jim snorted as he stretched, arching his back.

"Huh." Cokata sniffed.

"Wow Hoksilato, Casey Kaysum sure seems like the bane of yer existence." Casper shook his head.

"Why don't you remind me again, Casper?" Jim grumbled sarcastically.

Casper paused for a moment.

"Wow Hoksilato. Casey Kaysum sure seems like the bane of yer existence."

"Smart ass!" Jim barked as the two brothers broke into laughter.

The blonde snorted and stalked with Cody towards the stable barn.

"Spock! C'mon!" Jim called and the hybrid moved to followed.

"Hold on there space cadet! I'm talkin' to the boy!" Casper barked and turned his attention to where the hybrid had stopped and stood waiting. "What ya end up with there, Spock? Something good I bet."

"Both of my purchases were most profitable."

"'Both', huh? Not unusual to walk out of a sale like that with two instead of one. Own up. What ya get?" Casper pressed.

"I took on a large bay Morgan gelding that is unusually affectionate, attentive and a very well matched partner. His name is Touchstone though I have translated his name into Vulcan and will proceed to use that as his nomer." Spock stepped a little closer to the porch and stood with his head tilted back slightly to look up at the two brothers.

"Lets hear it." Cokata pressed. " I can speak a little Vulcan thanks to yer dad."

"Estuhl'kov." The hybrid responded.

"Mouthful." Casper hummed.

"Jim has continued to refer to him as 'Kov', I believe that will be sufficient." Spock informed.

"Okay, I can wrap my tongue around that. Morgan? Tough little dogs from what I've heard. What about the other one?" Casper urged.

"A Quarab mare with a questionable past. she is restless and angry and distrustful." Spock admitted.

"Don't worry 'bout that. Between Jim and Cody and ya she'll be set right in no time." Cokata assured, casual and oblivious of the mare's true state.

"I am optimistic as well. I have renamed her completely from those registered moniker."

"Go on."

"Khrash-yel."

Cokata started. "_Khrash-yel_? Doesn't that mean 'supernova'?"

"_Supernova?"_ Casper asked sharply. "You bought a supernova?"

"I have."

The two brothers made faces at each other.

"Well... yer a bolder man than I am." Casper hummed into his cup of coffee.

"What's done is done, Casper." Cokata huffed. "It'll work out, I'm sure."

Though he didn't sound it. The support for his choice was appreciated and noted but it was Jim's backing, he already had, and Cody's acceptance, which needed to be earned, that were vital.

"SPOCK!"

Casper and Cokata looked startled and the trio turned towards the sound of Jim's shout.

"Oh that's not good." Cokata said quietly. "Cody's pissed isn't she?"

"You assume this on the aggressiveness of Jim's speech?" Spock asked, slight unsettled by the sharpness of the blonde's tone.

"Oh, that's not Jim talkin', that's Cody." Cokata assured.

"He's channelin' her. She cain't yell at ya herself so she uses him." Casper said sympathetically. "Let me guess, ya and Jim took on the supernova without tellin' her the whole story, right?"

"I understand that the process by which that Jim and I conducted ourselves was inappropriate and inconsiderate." Spock ducked his head slightly.

"Yeah, but in all honesty Spock's she's probably just mad at the both of ya for puttin' yerselves in a situation that ya coulda gotten yerselves hurt or killed."

Spock cocked an eyebrow.

"Don't look so surprised Cahapi. Cody's a lynx. Every fiber of her soul is meant and designed with the only goal of protectin' the ones around her. It rubs her the wrong way when ya knowin'ly put yerself in danger right in front of her."

"SPOCK NOW!"

The two brothers flinched ad Spock shut his eyes briefly.

"No worries Cahapi." Cokata soothed. "She'll be antsy and pissed for a little while but will get over it soon enough. Just... tuck yer tail and roll on yer back a bit. Take it as a learnin' experience."

"Yeah, lesson is: don't piss off the alpha." Casper waved Spock on and the hybrid turned and jogged quickly towards the stable barn.

"Remember Cahapi, it's not Hoksilato yellin' at ya!" Cokata called loudly. Spock nodded before quickening his stride and ducked into the stable barn. He slowed and drew up next to Cody and Jim next to the mountain of stacked hay bales.

Jim gave him an apologetic and sorrowful look and handed over a pair of heavy, cloth work gloves. Spock immediately tugged them on. He looked towards Cody who did not seem changed in character or temperament in anyway. Spock's lingering hypersensitivity caught a drift of her pyschonic pulse, as ever silent but slightly faster and more aggressive than normal.

He and Jim stood docile and compliant before her.

_**We got to get a few bales into the paddock just on the left side of the barn and a two into the round pen. **_She signed smoothly, there was an actual coolness to her movements.

"The north or south one" Jim asked.

_**On the north side. We'll put your mare in there.**_

"Isolation?"

"Just for a little while, Spock." Jim assured. "See how she is, start working on her. We just don't know how she'll act towards other horses yet. We put new horses into a paddock for the first night home, then they moved into a pasture adjoining the big one so they can socialize over the fence then they get turned out with the herd. Kresh'll do the same thing, there's just an added step."

Cody whistled and they snapped back to attention.

_**Two in the round for the mare and five in the ring in the paddock for the rest of them. Put together a full sweep of vitamins and grain all of them too. I'll have Strain come out tomorrow for records, checks and vaccinations. And fill the trough in the paddock and you two drag a small trough into the round. Center it, just like everything else... and when you unload her, leave the halter on, please. I'll start bedding everybody down.**_

Cody tugged on her gloves and tugged down a few bales of hay and tossed them. Jim and Spock didn't waste a second hefting a bale each and practically scurrying out Cody's presence. They slowed their paces and walked awkwardly with the bale braced against their hips and stomachs. Spock followed in Jim's wake around the side of the stable barn and indoor arena. Beyond it was a large rectangular paddock that on either end was a large round pen.

The paddock and pens were constructed of the same wooden round posts and mesh wire fencing, access made by pipe fencing gates. Jim led him to the paddock gate, carefully unlinked the chain and swung the gat open. He led Spock across the grass and dirt to a metal feeding ring in the center of the paddock. They tossed in their bales before returning to collect another bale each.

On the third trip Jim jerked his head to the side, sending Spock towards the northern round pen.

Jim stripped the wire from the bales in the paddock the joined Spock in the north round pen as the hybrid carried in the second bale, they kicked the bales a little out from the center of the ring, where there was grass. Along the fencing the earth had been pounded and churned so much it was packed earth and foliage would not take root.

Jim stripped the baling wire a second time, wrapping it all in a bundle around his hand and led the way into the stable barn again.

"There's a couple trough around behind the bales." Jim led the way along the narrow space between the wall and the stacked bales. There was a small gap that seemed to have come up as minor storage for unused rubber feed bowls, buckets and two large metal tub style troughs. Jim awkwardly tugged on out enough that Spock could take hold of one end and he the other. Jim tossed in six rubber bowls before gripping his end. They lifted the weight between them, carefully lugging it along the wall and out into the yard before crossing around towards the paddock and round pens.

"Hold on, put it down." Jim encouraged as they came up to the paddock. They dropped the trough and Jim tossed five of the six rubber feed bowls into the paddock before they lifted the trough again and carried it into the center of the northern round pen and set it down. Jim tossed the sixth feed bowl over next to the unbound hay bales.

"Okay." Jim puffed tiredly. "If you run out the hose and fill this trough and the one in the paddock I'll get the grain and vitamins."

"Agreed." Spock dipped his head tiredly before turning and walking out of the round pen and towards the back wall of the indoor round pen. There was a spigot running up from the earth and a long coil of rubber hosing mounted on the wall next to it.

Spock easily unhooked the heavy weight, looping it over his shoulder as he hand been taught and unraveled it as he moved stepped back into the round pen and dropped the end into the empty trough. He strode back and cranked on the spigot, listening tot he rush of water through the tubing and splashing into the metal trough. The hybrid quickly calculated the speed of the water against the side of the trough in gallons it had been marked to hold and after nine minutes exactly he shut the spigot off. Moving back to the trough he found it three quarters of the way full of fresh, clear water. Spock lifted the end of the hose and tossing it over the rubber feed bowl and hay dragged it over to the border of the paddock and slid the hosing through the fencing and into a large, oblong trough set along the mesh and posts.

He quickly noted the capacity of the trough ad performed the same calculations, turning on and shutting the water off precisely to leave the trough approximately three quarters full.

Standing at the spigot and mounted rack Spock pulled the hose back, coiling it back over the rack and into place. Jim staggered up, awkwardly carrying four large buckets in his hands.

Spock finished the coiling and moved swiftly to relieve the blonde of two of the containers. They set two down and carried the other two into the round pen where Spock tilted the bucket up and spilled grain into the rubber bowl.

"That's enough." Jim commanded when a good portion of the grain had spilled over. He squatted and rooted into the fourth bucket and pulled out a series of large, compressed grain cubes of different colors. Vitamin supplements. He tossed them into the grain, before straightening and leading Spock out of the round pen.

"Let's go get Kresh." Jim set the bucket of vitamins and Spock the one of grain next to the other two and followed the blonde along to the still hitched air-ride.

The rest of the Chicalato clan had stepped out to observe on the porch, sipping drinks and chatting quietly. The pack of dogs lazing in the fading sun on the wood flooring of the wraparound porch.

Joanna, Toweya, Suri and the Twins were standing on their very tip toes to reach up and push their fingers through the bars of the windows of the trailer and squealing every time Rockhound nudged his muzzle between to lip at their fingers.

They looked up and bounded towards the blonde and hybrid, chattering wildly and Suri barely stopped himself from wrapping around Spock's knee. The hybrid paused to look tiredly down at his admirer.

The boy adjusted his glasses and swept a hand from his pale blue skin up into his ebony hair.

"Hello Suri." He greeted quietly.

"Spock. Joanna said that you got two horses." The young male wrung his hands slightly.

"Indeed."

The boy shuffled is feet slightly. "Can we all go riding then. Soon? I got my horse, Mogget here. We can go on a trail or something..."

"I know Mogget. He is a competent animal. I would be most agreeable to a leisurely ride with you and any number of the others. Unfortunately at the earliest it will be in two days time."

Suri looked like he was going to burst with joy. "That's okay."

"I want to go too!" Toweya huffed.

"Can we Uncle JimJimJimmyJim?" The twins chorused.

"Please Jim?" Joanna pleaded.

The blonde sighed dramatically, sounding falsely exhausted and exacerbated. "Fine. I guess."

The Pups let up a collective squeal of wild joy, chattering wild nonsense and bounding around each other.

"What did we just agree to, Hoksilato?" Cikala called tiredly, scrubbing his eyes and rubbing his temples.

"Family ride in two days." The blonde called.

"If it's alright with Sis." Casper warned.

Jim flinched but nodded.

The pack of Pups froze, looking up at Casper then took off in a flurry of dust and movement, screaming at the top of their lungs for 'Aunt Cody' regardless of the fact the there was no way that the petite rancher would hear their pleas for attention.

The Brotherhood broke into a fit of laughter, bellowing and blowing their coffee at each other. Jim sighed, soundingly slightly relieved before turning towards the air-ride.

The Brotherhood stayed relaxed but perked up and watched with sharp awareness as Jim unlocked the trailer door. As it swung open Khrash-yel panicked, jumping and banging into the barrier between her and Estuhl'kov with a high pitched snort.

Jim backed off instantly and jerked his head towards Spock. The hybrid approached calmly, moving slowly and steadily.

The smoke grey mare pinned her ears and pranced in place, shod hooves clanging on the metal. She snorted warningly at Apock and the hybrid paused at the edge of the trailer and stood calmly waiting. The mare jerked awkwardly at her tied lead, trying to look around through the small space offered by the open trailer. Smoothly Spock vaulted up onto the floor of the trailer and kneeled there, while the Quarab nervously shifted around and jerked at her halter.

_"Khrash-yel. Hizhuk. Se qual ek'man'es."_

The mare made a series of tired nervous noises, jumping when Spock carefully climbed to his feet and approached her. She tensed and heaved breath through her nose, tensing and jumping when Spock gently rested his hands on her shoulder. After a few moments of the quiet, light contact the mare calmed slightly.

"You're just going to have to pull her right out from there. I'm pretty sure she'll lose it if I try and run out the ramp." Jim advised. "She might not take it well so get a good hold on her."

The hybrid nodded as he carefully untied the lead and wrapped his bandaged hand tightly onto the braided rope and gently pulled the smoke grey mare around. She shifted nervously as Spock led her a few steps forwards to the edge of the air-ride floor.

"Spock, jump down first. She'll either follow with you or after. It's safer." Jim instructed.

The hybrid nodded, gave the lead some slack but kept his grip tight before lightly dropping down to the earth.

The grey mare stumbled after him before Spock had hit the earth. She lurched forwards anxiously, her hooves skipping nervously across the earth, head thrown up, ears flipping forwards then pinning. Spock tightened his grip and pulled back, stepping into the mare's space and choking his hold up on the lead. He tugged her around into a tight circle. she lurched and jumped, eyes wide, swinging her rear out, skidding her hooves and jumping nervously. She whinnied shrilly and snorted loudly.

Spock continued to pull her in a tight circle until her settled into a walk and calmed enough that she wasn't on the edge of panic.

Jim stepped over and took up the place he'd had earlier on Khrash-yel's other side, wrapping his hand lower on the lead than he had before. She jerked nervously but only blew heavily through her nose and with little resistance allowed the two males to tug her along at a quick pace. Her heels kicking up nervously in a semi-prance. They led her away through the yard towards the round pen and crossed into the enclosure. Jim broke off and stepped away.

"Lead her over to the water and when she starts drinking turn her loose." Jim quickly swung the gate closed, stepping it out and holding it, waiting for the hybrid.

Spock led the mare over towards the trough and like Jim had splashed the water with his fingertips, sending a shock of cold through his nervous system. She hesitated a moment before plunging her muzzle into the fresh water and sucking loudly.

While she drank Spock unsnapped the lead and stood quietly next to her. She seemed unaware of her new freedom and Spock hesitated before reaching out and lightly laid his hand onto the dip of her spine behind her shoulder.

She jumped, skin twitching but didn't move away. Spock hesitated, lingering before stepping away and walking quietly away and slid through the gap Jim held open for him at the gate, the blonde chaining it into place and leading the way back towards the trailer.

Spock glanced over his shoulder and saw the Quarab standing at attention, water dribbling from her chin and looking directly at him. Khrash-yel let out a soft nicker that had Spock been fully human he would have missed the quiet call.

They reached the trailer again and the pack of Pups had returned with Cody's blessing on the family ride in two days time.

"She's in rough shape there, Cahapi." Casper called when they were in ear shot again.

"But it looks like he's in her good graces already." Cokata countered from his wheel chair with a raised eyebrow.

"She didn't look that bad." Cikala huffed. "Some TLC and that little mare'll be a dream. Worse off have gone through this place."

Spock was slightly surprised by the support coming from the road weary Narcotics officer while a moment of silent reflection passed through the Brotherhood. The sounds of the ranch and the Pups playing aimlessly the only noise in the dimming light.

"C'mon. Let's see what else yer hidin' in that rig!" Cikala prompted gruffly.

Jim smirked and ran out the ramp and stood back as Spock climbed up to swing the barrier out of the way, untie Estuhl'kov and lead the bay Morgan down the ramp. There was a sound of catcalls and whistles at the appearance of the gelding. The horse seemed to understand, lifting his elegant head higher and animating his steps more, lifting his tail.

"Show off!" Casper barked and Estuhl'kov straightened up and nickered proudly, puffing out his chest.

"He is very attractive." Creek commented calmly. "Is he in you care?"

"Affirmative." Spock assured and lightly touched the Morgan's neck. The proud and highbred pose dissolved instantly as the gelding nickered and pressed in close to the hybrid, nosing affectionately into his elbow and then his ribs. The horse hummed, blowing warm breath across his hooded sweatshirt.

"That's a big Morgan." Cikala cocked an eyebrow.

Estuhl'kov swung his head down as the Pups approached boldly and set about petting and scratching at the geldings muzzle and jaw. He allowed the attention for a moment before turning back to nosing at Spock's hip, humming in content.

"Sweet though." Casper's wife, Marie, smiled warmly as she balanced the infant Matoha on her hip.

"Ya mean sweet on Cahapi." Casper teased with quirked lips.

They half turned as Jim led the anxious Foxtrotter cross down the ramp nd turned the horse in a few circles to calm.

"That a Trotter?" Cikala asked.

"X." Jim responded. "Dunno what, Sis bought her."

The blonde led the dappled grey mare away and Sock followed with a docile and exhausted Estuhl'kov on his heels. They crossed the lawn and passed the barn to the paddock and stepped in, Jim keeping a hold of the Foxtrotter cross while he swung the gate closed and sloppily chained it in place.

Jim and Spock each unsnapped the leads from the halters and set the horses free into the paddock. The dapple grey mare trotted off towards the hay but Estuhl'kov stayed close to Spock and followed the hybrid back to the gate. Spock gently pushed him back as he slipped out the gate.

The Morgan nickered after him with drooped ears.

"Casper's right. He is sweet on you." Jim smiled as he moved to grab ahold of one bucket of feed and stuffed compressed vitamin cubes into his pockets and ducked back into the paddock, giving the bucket of grain a shake and convincing the two horses to follow him.

"Is this acceptable?" Spock questioned.

"Sure. It's fine. Horses are just like any other living thing with feelings. Sometimes they get crushes. He's got a crush on you is all." Jim smiled tiredly. "Spock, maybe you should take a break. That soak you mentioned earlier. I'll take care of the rest of the horses. Okay?"

Jim tipped grain and dropped vitamins into rubber feed bowls for the two horses.

"Jim-"

"We both know ya need it. Don't fight me. I'm tired." Jim argued back.

The hybrid only hesitated for a moment before turning and walking across the yard passed the trailer and the collected Chicalato clan, they didn't call him out as the hybrid strode across the porch and into the kitchen, he walked down the hall and ducked into the first floor bathroom that in his first month shared with Jim. The blonde favored photographs of Nemo A534, Yellow Wolf and the _Enterprise_'s alpha crew. Spock shut the door and breathed out heavily, pausing for a moment to make sure the fluffy brown towels claimed as his own were folded on the wall mounted rack.

Spock plugged the drain and cranked on the water as hot as it would go and it rushed from the faucet. The hybrid stripped, layer after layer falling into an awkward pile on the blue and white toned tiles of the floor. As he stretched and arched he realized the deep soreness settled into his joints and muscles. The air turned humid and the glass over the sink fogged so thickly Spock couldn't see his reflection. The hybrid shut off the water and sank down into it. The heat prickled and bit at his flesh, reminding him that Spock was in a state of flux, that while his genetics craved heat and warmth he was becoming more and more accustomed to the cold temperature.

He breathed out heavily and eased down into the water, sinking lower and submerging himself until a point that his ragged, ebony hair floated lightly on the surface and every breath through his nose sent a soft ripple and series of small bubbles over the surface of the heated water. He kept his bandaged hand above the water.

His eyes drifted shut, letting the heat of the water sink deep and uncoil his tension and aches. It soothed him, making his breath come easier and body go slack. He slumped under the water against the tub and dozed, eased. He unraveled internally and lost sense of the physical world.

Possibly days later his eyes drifted open at the sound of a knock on the closer door. He sat still, expecting a voice to call to him but the door opened slowly. He tensed instinctively, all to aware of his current state.

His tension remained when Cody slipped in quietly. She looked up at him, eyebrow lifted and by the calm on her visage he knew that it was no mistake she had invaded the small space.

She closed the door behind her.

Spock sank lower into the water and waited.

Cody crossed the room, stepping over his discarded clothes, then turned and eased down until she was sitting on the edge of the tub. She sat up right for a moment before setting her elbows on her knees, letting her arms hang loose before her and dropped her head down to look towards her lap.

Spock did not dare try and communicate, waiting for the alpha's judgment.

A few long moments passed between them.

_**You're an adult. And you have your own family.**_

Her signs were calm and slow, as if making sure that Spock would understand. The hybrid stayed still in the water.

_**But we see you as part of our family. And I'm the eldest. So I have to protect you. And don't you dare tell me different.**_

Spock remained still, aware that he was getting a lecture.

_**I understand why you did what did and I approve. But I wish you had told me. I would have helped you. You put yourself in danger and you put Jim in danger. That mare could have killed you both.**_

Spock swallowed bitterly at the taste of the hardened truth, his stomach felt oddly hollow as her signed words bounced and echoed in the space as clearly as if they had been spoken.

_**While you're here, I'm responsible for you, your safety is just as important as anyone else's here. You understand?**_

_Yes _Spock signed with his injured hand.

_**You put yourself in danger like that again I will take it out of your hide. **_

Spock had no response and watched Cody for a long moment before the woman reached back and gently feathered a hand through his hair. His eyes drifted shut at the comforting touch, they stayed closed as he listened to Cody get to her feet and exit the bathroom, shutting the door quietly.

Spock sighed and after a moment pulled himself out of the cooling water, toweled himself dry and tugged on his jeans before dumping the rest of his clothes into the hamper in the bathroom and, knowing he would regret the shock of cold to come, left the small room barefoot and bare chested.

The hybrid shivered violently and quickly strode down the hall and climbed the stairs with only the wood creaking under his weight. Once he'd ducked into Jim's room the hybrid redressed in fresh clothing and returned to the kitchen for his boots, intending to seek out Jim or possibly go and look on at Khrash-yel and Estuhl'kov until the light had gone beyond the mountains.

Cikala and Casper were in the kitchen, refilling their coffee mugs.

"Hey Cahapi." Casper greeted warmly as Spock lifted his boots and sat in a chair, pulling them on.

"It is unlikely that you will refrain from referring to me by that name, even at my request. Is it not?" Spock asked.

"You got it." The firefighter rumbled. "Coffee?"

Spock hesitated, he wasn't fond of the harder drink but he felt the need for something of substance. "Yes. Only a small amount if you will."

"Sure." Casper reached up into the cupboard and drew down a mug and filled it halfway with thick, dark liquid, crossing over to set it in front of the hybrid as he eased down into the seat next to the hybrid.

"Thank you." Spock finished tying his boots and lifted the mug and drew a mouthful. The heady, warm drink flooded his throat and pooled in his belly. Casper shrugged one shoulder.

"Saw Sis just walk out of here a few minutes ago..." Cikala said nonchalantly. "She corner ya?"

Spock set the the coffee mug down and folded his hands, fingering at the bandages over his abused palm. "She informed me of her responsibility to my safety."

Casper winced. "I've gotten that speech before."

"We all have." Cikala sighed. "Not as much now as we did before."

"I did not contradict her." Spock said.

"Good move." Cikala muttered, "Tellin' her different will only get her riled up."

"Is it in her nature or raising to put herself in such a position that she is a protector?" Spock inquired and lifted the mug again and drinking carefully.

"Both." Casper said quietly. "Bein' a firstborn has responsibilities, takin' care of all us when _Ate_ and _Ina_, then Jim came along and the way he was tore up she got plenty fierce for all of us. Him as much as any of us."

"Jim's name shoulda been changed to Chicalato." Cikala muttered.

Spock ticked his head to the side. "You would prefer the history of events be altered so it was that Jim was born into your family?"

"No. Ate filed for custody when he was thirteen. Course _then_ was the first time since he was born that Winona fought for him. And no small town judge was goin' to take the kid away from his mother and give him to someone that wasn't even blood line." Cikala sighed and pinched his nose bridge.

"Why was it that your father saw fit to sue for custody?" Spock feared that the narcotics officer would tell another tale of escalated parental neglect and abuse.

"After that whole Tarsus incident."

"Cikala!" Casper snapped.

"What?" The officer narrowed his eyes and looked from his elder brother to Spock. Catching sight of the hybrid he went still. "... oh."

Spock had paled so significantly that his pallor was more akin to milk than flesh. His back had arched away from the back of his chair, hands limp on the table around his mug of coffee. He was staring at Cikala but seemed to be looking through him, sable eyes widening and both eyebrows risen towards his hairline. The muscles in his jaw had slackened so much that his lips had parted slightly. For a Vulcan it was a gross display of shock.

"Oh... " Cikala's teeth clicked slightly as they ground together and he paled slightly himself. "...um..."

"Cikala ya damn fool!" Casper snarled, enough to make the narcotics officer flinch and shrink in his seat.

"You are referring to the events that occurred on Tarsus IV, are you not?"

Spock's voice felt and sounded robotic, mechanical, clinical and nearly sterilized. The two Chicalato's looked startled by his sheer lack of tone and voice shift, clearly neither had ben exposed to a full blooded, well trained Vulcan before. The hollowness of Spock's voice was a perfect mimic of an elder that had underwent the training of _Kholinar_.

"Cahapi-"

"You are referring to the events that occurred on Tarsus IV, are you not?"

Cikala blinked at him and Casper shut his eyes, gave himself a small shake and dropped his head towards his chest and table.

Spock took a single audible breath before rising so quickly the chair toppled to the floor. He left it, yanking on his corduroy jacket and rushed from the kitchen towards the stable barn, side stepping around the still parked Big Horn and air-ride. His pace wasn't quiet a jog as he stepped into the heated space from the cooling outdoors by sliding sideways through a narrow gap in the double sliding doors. The heat was soothing and lazy, heavily scented with sweet grass hay, dust and the earthy aroma of horses. Cody was near the end of the line of stalls, a black halo blanket Appaloosa tied to a stall next to her while she knelt next to him, applying a thick, white paste poultice to one of the mare's legs.

Spock's head snapped around as Jim stepped down from the tack room, dusting his hands on his jeans. He looked up and a a slight smile fell on his face at the sight of the hybrid before it faltered and concern flooded his eyes.

"Cahapi? Are you alright?"

The hybrid crossed the distance in a few strides, standing far closer to Jim than was needed. Spock hoped that he would be forgiven for his overreactions, that he would be allowed these few moments that Spock had fallen prey to his emotions in so short a time since earlier that day and had driven his logic aside momentarily in his desperation for some kind of confirmation or denial.

"Spock?" Jim sounded slightly panicked, his concern for Spock so strong and overwhelming that it rippled off the blonde thick enough that the hybrid could feel it suspended in the air.

Spock wanted to lash out at him, cause him some kind of pain to correct his mindset. How could Jim disregard his own well being in this moment? This one specifically? With the ever growing world of pain that Jim had submitted to, survived under and he was concerned for _Spock_. It rolled the hybrid's stomach.

"Where you involved in the events surrounding the Tarsus IV genocide?"

Jim paled and eyes went wide before he rashly grabbed a hold of Spock's elbow and tugged. Both the human and hybrid knew had he wanted to Spock would not be so easily manhandled but the hybrid allowed himself to be uncerimoniously pulled around and dragged towards one of the empty stalls, still waiting for the herd of horses to be called in for the night. Jim roughly pushed the stall door shut before letting go of the hybrid's bicep.

"Who keeps _telling_ you this stuff?" He snapped harshly.

"It's not of import. Where you involved in the events surrounding the Tarsus IV genocide?" Spock retorted just as sharply.

Jim hesitated, taking a long deep breath. When he let it out it rattled through his chest. For a human it would have been enough confirmation but Spock was desperate for some kind of denial.

"Jim, the personal events that are passed unknowingly into my knowledge are ones that you alone should have the will to divulge and should I have it another way this would be so and I would learn of these things only from your confession but it has transpired beyond both our wills that I have learned of them and I implore you now. Jim. Please. Tell me." Spock's voice must has shaken slightly. He'd felt the ripple in his throat and had hoped that he'd filtered it out when he'd spoken.

The way Jim's brows knit was enough confirmation that he had not done a good job of his quickly unravelling control. The blonde licked his chapped lips.

"It was bad timing, okay?"

"No it most certainly in not 'okay'." The hybrid growled lowly before he could stop himself. Jim's jaw snapped shut for a moment.

"Look. It's not like they did it on purpose. My mom was off planet, my big brother walked out and Frank was going to sell my dad's car and I was _twelve_ and I couldn't take it so I stole the car and drove, drove it into a quarry ravine so no one could have it." Jim rushed out, each word stinging like hot wire.

Spock shut his eyes, listening as images sliced across his vision, his mind building up visuals to the narrative.

"So instead of Frank bailing me out of jail or telling my mom what happened and before Ben could do anything he had me shipped to Tarsus IV. I had an Aunt and Uncle on the colony and it.. it just... " Jim took a hollow breath. "... I was only there for a few weeks before the famine hit."

"What list were you on?"

Jim hesitated. Settling his hands on his hips and looking down towards the cedar and and shavings bedding heaped around their boots. "Kill list." he muttered into his chest.

A violent tremor racked through Spock's frame, his hand twisted into a fist, nails biting into his own palm and causing a flare of pain across the hypersensitive skin and nerves. His breath left him in a harsh push that burned his throat. While his eyes were still shut the hybrid felt Jim take a step back from him.

In an instant Spock lunged forwards, sagging the blonde's wrist in a grip that made the bones bend and grind and Jim hissed softly.

Spock instantly lightened his grip but tugged insistently until Jim had closed the new gap, to a point that he was far closer than he had been before. Under Spock's fingers Jim's pulse fluttered quickly, giving away a physical tell that he was under stress. Through the layer of connected skin Spock felt the weight of Jim's mind brushing against his own.

The familiar warm pass of air like a breathing horse was gone.

It spun and twisted with a poisonous mixture of shame and pain, fear and anger. Emotions that were not unused or strange to the blonde but the kind that Spock was tasting were stemmed from a far older source. They were cracked and yellowed, flooded with new, bitter blood. They rotated and writhed without a focal point, sometimes catching it's claws on the shards of the memories themselves and others snarled around Jim's mental image of himself. It frothed and foamed noxiously, threatening to boil over if it wasn't quieted and tamed quickly.

Spock twisted his hand until his palm was flush against Jim's inner wrist and his fingers digging lightly into the flesh of his forearm. The trickle of psychonic energy between them opened a little more and the hybrid shoved down his own swiftly spinning out of control negative thoughts and laced through Jim's a single, coherent impression in the turmoil.

_Safe_

The muscle under Spock's fingers relax marginally, the narrow litany taking root in Jim's consciousness.

"Do not turn from me." The hybrid commanded gently. "Only speak to me... you survived."

Jim sighed. "Few of us did... running, hiding, living on scraps but yeah... we survived. Almost didn't... Kodos, he caught us, saw me, said I wasn't supposed to be on the list, that it was a mistake that I could stay and live in the palace and be his protege. So I spit in his face. Starfleet walked in the door before he could take my head off."

Through the narrative Jim's eyes stayed strayed somewhere over Spock's shoulder. He continued his voice nearly hollow before a bitterness crept in and the cerulean pools snapped over to catch Spock's.

"When I got home, it wasn't my mom, or Frank or Sam waiting for me. It was-" He made a sharp movement with his arm and hand. "- it was Cody and Ben. I'm pretty sure my mom probably didn't know I was back, or if I was coming back, or anything!"

His voice was rising and starting to become slightly hysterical.

"So yeah. My greatest sin is that when... when Ben and Ina filed for custody-" He gesticulated so harshly he tore his arm from Spock's grip. "- I wanted 'em to win!"

Jim was panting, his eyes slightly wide flushed with panic and raw shame that came with some kind of terrible confession.

He was wild and nearly feral but he stood his ground and methodically licked his lips, his skin hitching and jerking now and again.

"How much did you weigh upon your return?" Spock asked clinically.

"What?" Jim looked visibly startled by the odd shift.

"I wished to know your weight upon your return to Earth."

Jim swallowed visibly and cast his yes downward, hands on his hips and nose crinkled as he sniffed heavily. "Seventy eight pounds."

"At the age of twelve?"

"Thirteen. My birthday turned over while I was there."

Spock's head jerked in a slight twitch. Seventy eight pounds. A human male at the age of thirteen should have been one hundred and fifteen if he was healthy. A difference of thirty seven pounds on a child would have been enough to kill them outright. It broke down organ systems, fat stores, skeletal structure...

"Your teeth fell out."

The blonde flinched and narrowed his eyes harshly at Spock.

"Several days ago, upon demonstrating to me where the port of a bit was meant to rest I observed scarring in your gums that indicated extreme dental reconstruction." Spock said factually.

Jim let out a sickly, rattling. The skin of his cheeks and lips twitched as inside his mouth Jim fiddled with his teeth.

"Not all of them." He defended quietly. "Seven or eight."

His breathing was starting to slow, like a racehorse being hot walked after a hard sprint, the rushed in and out of his inhales and exhales so harsh and as they were so close Spock could scent coffee and honey lingering on it, There was an odd chemical component that the hybrid localized as the scent of a fever beginning in the blonde, possibly designed by stress.

Jim's breathing was starting to hitch, shaking under the weight, fracturing and he blinked as moisture was collecting at the corners of his cerulean eyes.

"Damnit." The blonde ground the heels of his hands into his eyes. "God... today is so _backwards_!"

His hands slid up into his hair line, threading into his dusty blonde hair and taken broken breaths as he calmed, coming down from some frantic high but seemed to be making no attempt at putting what had fractured back together.

Jim stood raw and splintering before Spock, his breath trying to even out somehow not able to achieve the desired effect, it still came in shattered pants, railroading in and out of his chest. He was pale, paler than Spock had been moments before. His eyes wild and seemed to be looking for some way out.

Some escape route that the blonde might have been searching for a very long time. A hunt that he spent every waking moment pursuing... only ever seeming at peace with this endless quest when he was on a horse.

"Jim-"

The blonde lurched at his voice, literally spooking at the hybrid's presence. Jim stepped back until his spine connected with the wall of the stall, wrapping his own arms around himself and keeping his eyes down.

Spock eased forwards much in the same way that e had when pursuing Khrash-yel. Jim slumped against the aged wood and steel, he made a queasy, ill noise.

"I think I'm going to throw up." The blonde rasped.

"Perhaps you should sit." Spock said seriously and quiet, closing the space between them. The hybrid gently gripped the blonde's bicep and urged him to sit. It didn't take much for Jim's weakened knees to give out. The young human slumped down into the freshly laid cedar chips and bedding shavings. He slumped bonelessly against the wall.

Spock eased down next to him, sitting so close their knees and thigh brushed. They sat in silence for a moment, letting Jim's shattered breathing settle into a new, awkward pattern.

"I will not apologize for my actions... and it would be illogical to even remotely assume that such things would have not illicit some distress or emotional reaction. And I regret this but not the action... I deserve nothing from you save the request of some penance to suffer for my transgression much less the right to ask something of you but I implore you, Jim, please. Do not turn from me. Only speak to me."

The blonde breathed brokenly for a moment before swallowing heavily.

"I need to find that brother of yours and make him spill his guts." Jim muttered tiredly.

"Sybok and I have been estranged since I was the age of five."

"What?" Jim whined and braced an elbow on his his knee and dropped his head into his hand with a snort through his nose. "That is ten kinds of not fair."

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**A/N: And the Arc ends with the mega chapter of doom. This is a big chapter, lots of heavy stuff... I tried to spread it out a little so it wasn't overwhelming. You ca always kind of tell when a chapter is particularly hard to deal with by the title. 'Ache' was the last rough one and this one is 'Broke' WITH a lovely quote by Spock himself there at the top, from the novelization of the movie. I only know that because thanks to Burns I have the MP3s of Zach Quinto reading the novelization as and audio book... it's great, it's like Spock is reading you a bed time story and he does voices for the different characters... including the women...**

**Lakota Translation:**

**Mitawa tokahe - my first**

**Mitawa Sukawaka - my sacred/spirit dog**

**Hoksilato - Blue Child**

**Cahapi - Sugar**

**Ate - Father**

**Ina - Mother**

**Vulcan Translation:**

**Khrash-yel - Supernova**

**Dungau fam nash-veh klau k'dular - I will not harm thee**

**K'dular resha qual olozhikaik - Thee's anger is logical**

**K'dular ki'pinkau kah - Thee has earned it**

**Fai-tor kah-if shahtau - Know it is finished**

**Ki'nirsh nash-veh an'kharh t'k'dukar - I have no fear of thee**

**Il dungau kal-tor wuh'ashiv nash-veh klau k'dular - Nor will I allow another to harm thee**

**Dungau ugau nash-veh k'dular t'nash-veh t'zaled - I promise thee my loyalty**

**Hizhuk - quiet**

**Sarlah - come**

**Se qual ek'man'es - It is safe**


	16. Chapter 16

**Sorry everybody for the delay. I wanted to close up some other fics and started working on another project and STUFF comes up. But here's a nice big fat chapter to make up for it. WARNING: Is not edited very well. **

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**Summary:**_** Their partnership built solely between themselves.**_

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**Lost Horse Creek, Montana**

"**When you are lonely, let me be your companion. When you are tired, let me carry the load. When you need to learn, let me teach you… after all, I am your horse."**

**-Unknown**

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**Chapter Sixteen: Partnerships**

_**"I believe that everyone is the keeper of a dream - and by tuning into one another's secret hopes, we can become better friends, better partners, better parents, and better lovers."**_

**- O. Winfrey**

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_**Native Sky Ranch**_

_**124 Flathead Road,**_

_**Lost Horse Creek, Bitterroot Mountain Range, Rocky Mountains, Ravalli County, Montana**_

_**Stardate: 2260**_

_**October 29**_

_**0345 Hours**_

_**... **_

It was another sleepless night.

But this one did not have the restlessness others had before.

Jim had no desire to move.

And Spock's desire was only to remain as his side.

It explained a great deal... Tarsus IV...

It explained his consumption rate and eating behavior. The way that Jim ate ravenously at all meals and snacked almost continuously, the way that he even indulged in foods that made him ill regardless of the repercussions he was subjected to for assaulting his allergens and sensitive systems. The way that he sometimes hoarded food away in small, scattered caches when he was onboard the _Enteprise _in the form of apples slipped into his pocket from his meal trays or packets of protein nibs raided from emergency kits before they were inventoried and replenished every week.

It explained his near constant intake of water, coffee and fruit juices and other organically rich drinks and his avoidance of ones filled with empty carbohydrates and diuretics like soft and energy drinks and for the most part alcohol.

It explained the hypervigilence in part. The quick observation of a room, noting every exit premade and ones that Jim could make for himself if the need came. The way he sought seating with his back at walls or preferably corners. The way he zeroed in his attention on unfamiliar figures of authority and watched them warily and diligently and made every possible effort to never be in a room alone with them. Never allowed any of the crew in a room alone with them.

It explained the constant tension to escape. It explained the indulgence of children but his ferocity in protecting them.

His ferocity in protecting everyone.

It explained a great deal because Jim spoke.

He talked about endlessly on about the few weeks before, how everything was teetering and hushed before it collapsed. He talked about the slow starvation, then the systematic genocides, about running and huddling in ditches and holes and collapsing ruins, trying to keep his cousins safe and alive when he allowed himself to suffer, he talked about the pack of feral children escaped or abandoned that ran together and devolved slowly and surely until they were like ravenous wolves and lacked humanity so that when it came to it they committed abominations on the dead and at times each other and Jim had stood his ground at times fought tooth and nail for the smallest of the pack. He talked about being hunted and trapped and breaking loose only to be trapped again and laid before Kodos like some kind of prized pelt. He talked about being rescued and flinching whenever he was touched and how ill he'd gotten when he tried to eat, he talked about the way the medical staff looked at him whenever he weighted in or vomited or whenever another tooth fell out of his jaw.

He spoke, haltingly, about his first night returned and how Cody was the only one that touched him and refused to let him go. He spoke about how that first night had been the most comfortable and comforting of his life until then and since, a night spent curled up against the then four year old Yellow Wolf's side, face buried in his shoulder and mane, bedded down in cedar shavings and straw in the safety of a stall with Cody and Blackbird closed around his exposed side in a living circle of protection.

After that he'd fallen silent. His cerulean eyes dazed and dull. When Spock reached to touch him the blonde had flinched then apologized quietly. Assured Spock that it wasn't the hybrid.

Spock found he could not speak at all.

The hybrid sat in silence beside the blonde, listening to the man breathing and the soft sounds of Cody still working in the stable barn.

A little time slipped in silence before the sound of the massive double doors slid back along their rail and vibration and drum of horse hooves rippled up from the floor. Whinnies and nickers echoing in the rafters and clatter of flanks of hooves colliding with wood and steel of doors.

And still Jim did not move from his place at the wall and Spock, though knowing very well that within seconds a pair of horses would step into their stall expecting it to be empty, did not leave him.

As it turned out it was the old brothers' stall.

Yellow Wolf's front hooves stalled in the bedding as he started at the sight of Jim and Spock. The overo buckskin cocked his ears forwards in surprise and blue eyes wide. The stud nickered softly and when Jim didn't move the stud's ears pinned and he churred softly in his throat and stepped fully into the stall. Yellow Wolf sidestepped carefully around Spock and around to Jim.

The horse looked down at the still unmoved human before humming and dropped his head, he roughly shoved Jim knocking the startled blonde onto his front and into Spock's chest.

"Wolfie!" Jim growled as he tried to untangle himself from the hybrid.

The over stud snorted and stepped into the space that Jim had occupied a moment before. The horse huffed and gingerly knelt then flopped down onto his belly. His slim legs tucked up under his chest and flank.

The buckskin overo nickered and stretched out before gripping the fabric of Jim's hooded sweatshirt between his teeth and tugged sharply enough the that blonde tumbled back into the gleding's side with a grunt.

Jim sat awkward and rigid for a moment before letting out a huff of air and slumping back against the stud's ribs, letting his head fall back and eyes shut with a soft sigh.

"Thanks, Wolfie..."

The stud nickered and looked up with ears pricked.

Spock twisted and looked over his shoulder and up at the other horse.

He shrank away instinctively, tensing.

Blackbird blinked at him with large dark eyes. The old stud breathed out heavily, warm air rushing through his nostrils. The stud's ears cocked forwards, neck arched slightly and chest expanding and collapsing in a rhythm far slower than Spock knew was natural for a horse. The dark clouds of a storm churning slowly, rolling over and over in his eyes.

The stud looked on at Spock, studying him or trying to remember him as Spock had done everything in his power to avoid the buckskin boss horse. The hybrid found Blackbird unnerving and unnatural... found him slightly frightening. The old horse was to intelligent, to calm, to still, even for the mild mannered and smart stock under Cody's hand.

Blackbird was far to sentient for Spock's liking and when those few times passed that Spock glimpsed the stud or thought on his presence more and more the hybrid was beginning to believe what Jim had said about the horse.

That he was not a horse at all. That Blackbird was some ancient force of nature bound in flesh and fur.

A Thunderbird.

Blackbird looked down at Spock, blinking slowly. He took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, his nostrils wrinkling. It was the only movement and sound in the stillness of the stall.

Yellow Wolf let out a soft, nervous noise and Blackbird's attention snapped around to his brother. The painted stud nickered softly, ears swayed and muscles tense under Jim's weight.

Blackbird paused, as if turning over the noises Yellow Wolf had made before letting out a soft sigh and lightly stepped the rest of the way into the stall. The large horse walked gingerly, his steps light and nearly silent in the bedding as he shifted around and hunched up on his heels in the small open space her turned one hundred and eighty degrees to face the door of the stall. Blackbird flicked a look towards the trio still watching him before the stud, with much more grace than his brother, eased down onto his belly and folded his legs neatly under him. Spock shifted over quickly, getting closer to Jim and Yellow Wolf to stay out of the old buckskin stud's way.

Blackbird glanced them all over again, his dark eyes lingering on Spock before the boss horse turned his attention to look out of the open stall door, just watching idly and blinking slowly. Like an elder observing the world outside the window.

"That wasn't nerve wracking at all." Jim muttered quietly and wrapped his arms tighter around himself and shifted back to press closer to Yellow Wolf's side.

Spock would have spoken but he did not wish for Blackbird to put his attention back onto the hybrid. Though he did shift over a few more inches closer to Yellow Wolf and the blonde.

"He really makes you nervous doesn't he?" Jim asked quietly.

Spock wet his cracked lips. "I find his presence less than comforting."

"He won't hurt you." Jim assured quietly. "Blackbird can read people. He knows. If he was going to hurt you he would have killed you against the stall door a month ago."

The cool sincerity and truth of the statement sent a chill lancing into Spock's core and he looked towards the buckskin again. Blackbird continued his watch out of the open stall door, he seemed to be waiting for something.

"He won't." Jim pressed. Spock nodded haltingly.

"If it make you uncomfortable-" Jim started to push himself up when Spock halted him with a light touch to his shoulder.

"My discomfort in exchange for yours is not a large price to pay." Spock assured and Jim eased back into Yellow Wolf's ribs. The blonde paused before shifting over, scooting over until he was leaning back against Yellow Wolf's shoulder and upper ribs. Jim jerked his head towards the overo buckskin's flank.

After a moment Spock understood and gingerly manuvered himself around until he was sitting next to Jim, back settled against the drumming warmth of Yellow Wolf's flank and belly. Jim tucked his hands into the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt and drew his knees up to his chest. Spock mimicked him and they sat for a moment, their only movements forced with the rise and fall of the horse's breath pushing them forwards then cradling them as hey fell back.

Spock felt the rhythmic thunder of Yellow Wolf's heart through the thick bone and flesh, pulsing oddly close to where his own heart was low in his side. He had never been so close to Yellow Wolf before. It seemed like taboo ground. That Yellow Wolf was Jim's and Jim's alone. That the painted stud was never to be trifled with or mishandled or handled at all by anyone other than Jim and true to fact Spock had never seen even Cody touch the overo buckskin.

Yellow Wolf's tail twitched, switching around under the bundle of long, coarse hair draped casually across Spock's lap and over his thighs. He hesitated for a moment before reaching out and fingering the strands, sending little pricks of sensations all through the hypersensitive skin of his hands.

The two horse stiffened and pricked their ears with soft nickers as Cody leaned into the stall door. She blinked in surprise at them then took on annoyed look.

Jim's eyes dropped away from the deaf rancher and her face instantly twisted into concern and she stepped into the crowded stall and crouched next to Jim, one hand cupping his jaw and forcing his head up and to tilt, looking at her. His cerulean gaze dull and listless and barely holding her grey eyes and it seemed like the only thing keeping his head up was Cody's grip.

She glanced at Spock and he lifted a hand, signing carefully: _Tarsus_

It was more than enough as Spock saw her eyes flash and widen slightly before she let go of Jim's jaw and smoothed a hand lightly across his cheek and back over his ear. The move slow, deliberate and soothing. Jim leaned into the touch and when Cody carefully pulled him forwards into an embrace. Jim buried his face into her shoulder and clutched tightly at her sides. His back gave a lurching, heave and a muffled, weak noise rippled from his throat. But there was no more after that.

Spock felt Yellow Wolf shift , watching his neck twist and head dip until his muzzle was pressed against the blonde's hip. Blackbird hesitated a moment before he stretched his neck and set the edge of his jaw onto the small space left on Cody's shoulder next to Jim's temple. The horse puffed damp, heated air into Jim's wheat gold hair, ruffling the locks before the buckskin stud pulled back and returned his gaze towards the door.

Jim hung tightly to Cody for several long moments before he drew back with a thick sniff and Cody only backed off when the blonde did. She feathered his hair gently and carefully climbed back to her feet.

_**Sit tight boys.**_

She stepped back out of the stall, stroking a hand lightly over Blackbird's forehead, fetlock and ears as she exited. She left the stall door open and Spock listened to the sounds of her bedding down the rest of the horses quickly then exiting the stable barn.

Jim slumped back against the rising and falling side of the overo buckskin and hugging himself shifted closer to Spock as well. The hybrid did the same and Yellow Wolf curved his body slightly around them.

Within an hour Cody had returned, laden down by a heavy, thick blanket and a small satchel that was slightly bulged and looked weighted down. Spock took the blanket when it was offered bundling it into his lap while Cody eased down against Blackbird's side and dug into the satchel. She came up with large metal thermoses and unscrewed the lid. The thick scent of a spicy soup drifted up from the contents and Cody gently urged it into Jim's hands. The blonde hesitated before numbly taking a drink from the thermos.

Jim rolled the metal between his palms before handing it off to Spock. The hybrid hesitated only a moment before drinking down some of the soup.

It was spiced and sharp, thick and made heavily with tomatoes and some kind of synthetic broth. It puddled low in Spock's abdomen and warmed him. Normally the hybrid shied away from spicier foods, tiring to spare his mild palate, but the soup agreed with him fairly well.

Spock took another deep drought and offered it back to Jim, only for the blonde to shy away from the food. Spock started to speak, try to press eating on Jim but the deaf rancher gave him a warning look and Spock's jaw snapped shut in and instant.

Instead Cody gently pressed another thermos into the blonde's hands. This one smelling strongly of the thick coffee that Jim was fond of. A little life returned to Jim's eyes, he gave Cody a weak, grateful smile before wrapping his hands around the container of coffee, taking deep, sucking drinks from it with barely breathing between before it was half gone and the blonde slumped down into Yellow Wolf's shoulder and cradled the coffee close to his chest and belly.

Spock finished off the spicy soup and returned the thermos only to have another one filling his hands that was full to the brim with another one of Cody's attempt at making tea the way that Spock preferred. It was closer than prior attempts and the hybrid more than appreciated the effort from the alpha.

time crawled by and slowly they settle down more. The cold was kept well away by the furnace of a horse at his back, Jim at his side and eventually cocooned up under the blanket with Jim while Cody was settled comfortably back against Blackbird's side.

Spock dozed in and out and time nearer to dawn than dusk Jim fell asleep completely, is face buried in Yellow Wolf's mane and neck. His breathe wheezed and hiccuped through his chest and throat. But whenever the hybrid looked towards Cody he saw the petite rancher silent and still and at an alert, her attention turned outwards and looking out passed the open stall door and a hand planted firmly against the wall of the stall, reading the vibrations through the steel and metal. Her grey eyes sharp and intelligent, though sound was lost on her Spock knew that she was probably aware of small goings on in the stable barn that he, with all his senses intact, was unaware of.

He tried to read the smallest twitches and tilts of of her head and the twitch of her skin, tried to understand her and only succeeded in repeatedly catching her eye and getting a series of questions about his functionality and when her assured her that he was fine she only looked at him with concern and suspicion before turning her attention back outwards.

Hours slipped by and before too long Blackbird and Yellow Wolf roused from their slight dozes, lifting their head and pricking their ears, tilting their noses up and sucking air, nickers rumbling in their chests. Cody sat for a moment longer than she seemed like she should before bracing a hand on the buckskin stud's spine and pushed herself up, dusting off her jeans and sending a small shower of bedding and debris to the floor. She stretched, giving herself a twist and bend. She smoothed hands through her hair, tugging out the band of her pony tail, combing her fingers through the strands roughly before tugging and winding it back up into a chaotic and unstable bun and bound it in place again.

After a long moment she looked down at Spock, only now that she roused and moved as if heading to start the day all over again did the hybrid notice how tired she was.

There was a tightness between her shoulders that told of a bone deep kind of ache that was not just designed of long days and nights, but was the toll of years of hard living. The effort of living, pushing passed disability and bearing the weight of responsibility that Spock could not comprehend, soldiering on after loss so titanic that it would have driven lesser creatures to drink or addiction or madness.

She looked suddenly old. Ancient. More weathered and wise than the surviving elders of the Council. And all that wisdom and experience and power contained in a slip of a creature that lacked the ability to hear the spoken word or communicate verbally.

Spock wondered idly if Cody's mind were as silent as she was in life. Did it lack all trace of the sense she had no experience of or did her mind fabricate what she believed sound would resemble?

Spock blinked up at her tiredly, waiting for his judgment. She had not signed to him since her arrival some hours ago, in actuality she had barely looked directly at him. Now all her attention was turned to the young hybrid.

He tensed. Waiting.

After a long moment Cody offering him an exhausted, twisted and not entirely whole smile. It was fractured and unsteady and only lasted for a moment before it faltered and fell. She reached towards him, shifting her weight in his direction and Spock instinctively shut his eyes and tilted his head up slightly. Unable to help the small, low vibration of his throat in when she swept her fingers gently through his lengthening hair. She petted his hair longer than she normally did, stroking through it affectionately until Spock felt a good part of his entire frame, not just his throat and torso, vibrating pleasantly.

He had been very young when his mother had stopped laying affection on him is a similar way. A physical way. Petting his hair, touching his ears and pressing light kisses to his cheek or temple. Five. Five years old when his father had professed an unease with it and Amanda was reined in the light touches and though Spock had missed the contact he'd reasoned as a Vulcan child they were logically unnecessary.

He regretted now that he had not sought them out in his mother when he had grown. it was a bitter pang that he had fidgeted under those small moments when Amanda had gone out of her way to straighten his collar or smooth his hair, touching him recreationally.

But this soothing and affectionate touching that would have made full blooded Vulcan's flinch and shy like nervous horses, Spock basked in it without restriction or guilt that it was some kind of replacement for his lost mother's hand.

There was a roughness to Cody's handling. She ruffled him, pushed him around gently but firmly. Where Amanda had treated him as if he would break Cody had no such stigmata and seemed ever on the verge of rolling Spock into some puppyish match of wrestling as she was to light a kiss on her hair.

Proving the point the deaf rancher lightly tweaked the tip of his delicately pointed ear. Giving is a minuet tug for a droplet of dull pain to add to the pleasure that stroking his hair had given him.

Spock blinked his eyes open as Cody stepped out of the stall without having spoken to him.

The hybrid looked after her before shrinking back against Yellow Wolf's flank when Blackbird shifted, the older horse stiffly moving until her hauled his massive frame up to his feet, barely stirring the bedding, giving himself a small, full bodied shake before lightly stepping after Cody.

Spock stayed where he was, listening to the sound of Cody moving around, of horses starting to rouse and of Blackbird walking on Cody's heels.

Next to him Jim stayed asleep, curled up against Yellow Wolf's shoulder, though the stud was clearly awake himself. The stud had his head lifted and ears pricked, occasionally he'd give a slight twist or tilt of his head and look back towards Spock before looking back towards the stall door but the stud no more moved than he did change the rhythm of his breathing.

Th hybrid stayed for a long moment before disentangling himself, shivering slightly in the cooler, open air of the stall and gingerly stepped through the bedding and out of the stall. He didn't shake himself more than give a slight stretch, rolling his spine and flexing his shoulders and smoothing the bedding off his jeans, hooded sweatshirt and out of his lengthening hair before crossing to where the double doors led into the tack and trophy room.

Blackbird had walked right into the space and stood on Cody's, heels, looking over her shoulder as the deaf rancher fiddled with medication for the animals that needed it doled out in the morning feed Spock glanced briefly at a chronometer mounted on the wall nearer to the small den space in the center of the trophy cases, shelves and mounted plaques.

It was only just passed the fourth hour of the morning. Just looking on at the clock made Spock suddenly weary. He hesitated for a moment considering running through the chores expected of him then begging off the morning and spend it regaining sleep in Jim's bed.

Cody reached passed Blackbird and handed him a small stack of supplement packets to mix into the feed for the horses.

Spock bundled them against his chest before stepping back out of the trophy tack room, careful to avoid Blackbird and dropped into the packed dirt of the aisle and strode over to where the large barrels of grain and feed were stored against the outer wall of the tack and trophy room. The hybrid stuffed the supplement packets into his pockets and opened the largest container for the most generic feed, a ten percent sweet grain mix. Any horse that wasn't eighteen or older, pregnant or nursing was on this kind of feed.

Spock tugged a large red plastic bucket around, the same color as the barrel. He tugged up the lid of the barrel, noticing that it was three quarters of the way full, two red metal feed scoops sat on the surface of the grain. Spock used one scoop to dig into the grain and pour it into the bucket until the bucket was full. He set the scoop into his bucket and lifted the weight before making his way to the far end of the line of stalls. The horses behind the bars nickering and humming softly at him as he went. Spock opened the first stall, the two horse behind it were two of Creeks three, Digger, a paint gelding and Claybasket, a chocolate brown mare. They nickered at him and showed their good manners and better upbringing by sanding respectfully back while Spock scooped out their meal and tore open a few supplements over the feed, only diving into the feed bowls when Spock had retreated from the stall and shut the door behind him.

The hybrid moved on to the next stall over, performing the same series of tasks all over again for the next two animals. He only paused in his rhythm to stroke a hand down a horse's neck, over their nose or push them back slightly so he had more room to work.

The hybrid payed more attention to horses that he was familiar with than he did other animals. Stopping to pet or speak quietly with the scarred sorrel Jeepers Creepers, the yellow dun paint Hornet and the nervous Saddlebred gelding, Time Machine.

Spock smoothed their ears and swept fetlocks aside, tracing nostrils and patting shoulders. He soaked in the positive energy that poured off the horses so early in the morning. Glad to see a humanoid, glad o be touched and fawned on, glad to be fed. The rolling potency of their contentment made sent a sense of laziness and relaxation through the hybrid, actually slowing his movements and adding to the already weighed exhaustion that threatened Spock from the day passed. He refilled the red bucket three times over before all the horses were fed and in the mean time Cody had dosed out medication, the Mare and Foal grain and the Senior feed to the horses that Spock had skipped purposefully.

Spock walked back along the stalls, ducking is head for a split second to look in where Jim was still curled against Yellow Wolf's shoulder. The painted buckskin was eating contently out of a feed bowl set in the bedding before him, popping corn and grains between his molars. He flicked his ears at Spock and seemed to almost smirk in a way that Spock was unsure if the horse learned it from Jim or if Jim had learned from Yellow Wolf.

Spock continued down to the last stall and slid it back and open before moving to the next one and continuing down the line in a steady rhythm, sliding back doors and stepping out of the way as two horses eagerly trotted out and skipped or loped down the aisle towards the pen bar doors and burst out into open pastures with nickers and whinnies.

The vibration of drumming hooves and pitch of jovial horses must have been enough to pull the blonde out of sleep he probably desperately needed. Jim stumbled out of the stall with Yellow Wolf tripping after him. The human and horse both gave themselves full body shakes and stretched. Jim reaching upwards and arching his back while the overo buckskin stretched out his forelegs before him, dipping towards the floor, bowing then rolling his weight forwards before scrambling slightly to regain his footing and switched his tail back and forth. Further down the line of stalls Cody was nearly finished tacking up Blackbird for the ride up into the mountain. She flicked an eyebrow in Jim's direction while the blonde smoothed his rumpled clothes and staggered slightly into the trophy and tack room and in lest than a few minutes came back out still scrubbing his eyes with the backs of his knuckles and only carrying a black leather bridle fitted with a Quarter Horse bit.

Spock blinked. He knew that Jim preferred not to use or handle a bit with any horse outside of riding a more classical style than Western. especially not with Yellow Wolf. Jim easily and swiftly slipped the bit between the overo buckskin's teeth and buckled the bridle into place over his ears. Jim tossed the reins over the stud's neck then in a blur vaulted up into position, shifting up into proper position, smoothing his fingers through the this mane and cueing the horse into movement without touching the reins.

The blonde glanced over and blinked slightly when he locked eyes with Spock, cerulean meeting sable. Spock half expected them shut down and closed off but they were open and raw and brimmed to the edges with a lonesomeness that Spock had not seen for a while yet. And at the edges was a shame so misplaced and illogical that it staggered Spock.

Jim cast his eyes away, hunching slightly in on himself as the weight of all that happened the night before settled into place on his spine. Yellow Wolf snorted softly and broke into a quick trot. Spock looked after the blonde and overo buckskin and felt a sudden, insatiable need to move, prowl and pace and run, the core of energy roared in his chest and ballooned large enough, quickly enough that it over shadowed even the sealed chamber low in his gut that harbored Khrash-yel's emotional upheaval and influence. He felt his molars grind roughly together.

He stepped back sharply when Cody pulled Blackbird up next to him. For a long moment Spock kept his eyes downwards, looking at the buckskin stud's hooves for a moment before dragging his eyes up and sable met storm grey. The look on her silent face and in her quiet eyes was understanding and soothing but smoothed over with a kind of warning that made Spock straighten up and look at her more attentively.

She lifted one hand and Spock tracked the signs dutifully.

_**I got an Idea what you've got in mind. I'm telling you this once. Don't get on a horse angry.**_

Spock swallowed before nodding slightly, agreeing reluctantly to what had been a command more than a suggestion.

Cody's chest rose and fell in a silent sigh before she kicked on boot free and stretched her leg to lightly tap it against Spock's hip. the hybrid shifted at the contact but didn't step back and he kept his head tilted up to look at her.

_**Go do nothing for a day.**_

Cody bent and slid her boot back into her stirrup and Blackbird took off at a quick trot, ears pricked forwards and tail flicking. As she turned the corner Cody let out a piercing whistle and Spock caught a flash of movement from the edge of the ranch home as Wagi and Situpsa leapt off the porch and raced after her.

Spock stood for a moment, pondering her last statement.

Do nothing.

It was not a foreign concept. It was in fact a kind of philosophy that Jim and Cody preached about their training and handling of horses.

The art of doing nothing.

Of simply existing and being without a focused purpose or goal.

They had said that the particular state of mind was easily accomplished when in the company of horses, the animals were designed for living solely in the present moment, they did not have forethought in the way humanoids did and only remembered the past or existed in the momentary pass of time.

Spock hesitated for a long moment before setting into the near automatic series of actions that took up the early hours of his mornings at Native Sky, mucking out and bedding down the line of stalls in the same methodical timeline that he did every morning. When he'd finished with the last stall Spock stepped out of the stable barn and crossed the pre-dawn lit yard to the ranch house. She climbed the stairs quietly and slipped across the porch and into the kitchen with barely the rattle and squeak of the door. The house was still dark, the kitchen only lit from the paling light of the out of doors.

The hybrid didn't bother climbing the stairs, ducking into the mud room and setting his attention on a large basket filled with recently cleaned clothes. Spock swiftly stripped out of his hooded sweatshirt and the layered clothes from the day before. Standing bare chested in his jeans and boots the hybrid shuffled through the launder fabrics, pulling out a piece at a time when he recognized his own clothing. A black under armor long sleeve was snug and fitted against his skin. A dark green tee shirt follows before Spock shakes out the AQHA hooded sweatshirt once, getting rid of the last clinging shreds of bedding before tugging it back into place, the fabric still warm but only just from sitting by for the time it took Spock to reorder himself.

Spock stepped back into the kitchen and moved to the refrigerator, tugged the appliance open, surveying the interior for a moment before pulling out a container of non-dairy yogurt. Streaked pink and thick with chunks of sliced strawberries someone had added to the plain substance. Spock pulled off the top and rooted into the utensil drawer before coming up with a spoon. He hesitated for a moment, looking towards the cabinet where the bowls were perched before shrugging it off, leaning against the counter top and eating directly out of the container much in the same way he'd observed Jim or one of the Brotherhood doing. Spock stared down into the yogurt, twisting his spoon through it and blending the colors more completely before he lifted a mouthful and throughly cleaned the spoon before dipping it again and repeating the actions.

The hybrid tensed slightly and looked up at the soft click of nails on terra cotta tile. A large shadow moved towards him at a slow pace and as it crossed the paling light fell across pricked ears and the scared face of the one eyed German Shepherd.

Nemo A534 looked up at him and crossed the kitchen until the large dog stood before the hybrid. The ex-service animal eased back to sit on his haunches and looked up at Spock, ears cocked forwards and pointed snout tilted towards the hybrid's face. Spock looked down at the neatly seated dog as he continued to eat slowly out of the yogurt container.

The one eyed dog whined softly. Spock hesitated before scooping out a spoonful that was only slightly streaked in pink and held it, hovering, for a moment before holding out the spoon towards the dog.

Nemo A534 dipped his head and lapped the substance off the spoon cleaning it as thoroughly as Spock had each time he ate from it before sitting back again.

The hybrid looked down at the spoon, pausing for a moment before dipping it back into the yogurt and uncaringly lifted a scoop into his own mouth, licking the silver clean as if he'd never shared it with Nemo A534.

It went on like that for a bit. Spock scooping out a portion and offering it to the German Shepherd before taking one for himself.

"I have been instructed it would be in my best interest to do nothing for the day." Spock told the dog quietly after some time.

Nemo A534 cocked his head at the soft tone and licked his lips.

"In my understanding it is meant to be a time without forethought or goals... this is a difficulty for me. I have never conducted a day or nothing. There is always a purpose. Even in things that would not seem to have one. Sleep. Meditation. Play... I do not understand how I am meant to attain a state of doing nothing..."

Nemo A354 sniffed quietly and flicked his ears, dipping his head when Spock offered him another spoonful of yogurt and lapping it up eagerly.

"At present this seems a most improper time to do nothing."

The dog whined softly, coking his head in the other direction.

"It has been revealed to me another incident in Jim's past that has harmed him grievously. Left him scarred in his very nature."

At Jim's name he dog twitched and shifted forwards a few inches, tilting his head back a little more.

"When all was revealed to me he had difficultly making complete eye contact for a significant measure of time... I am sure he is ashamed of this involvement in the events on Tarsus IV."

Nemo A534 whined softly, twitching his head slightly to the side so that his single brown eye was focused on Spock more completely.

"I do not understand this reaction. You have been wounded and disfigured and yet you go on unashamed of what became of your career and fate."

The dog gave a soft snort and slight bob of the head as if nodding.

"And yet he acts as if what he had done to ensure his survival and the survival of others were acts near criminal... while I would not wish for such a situation, had it meant his survival I would approve of any methods or actions he would deem necessary to take."

The dog wrinkled his nose and sneezed softly, giving his head a sharp shake before returning his eyes to Spock's, ears pricking forwards again. The dog suddenly snorted and got to his paws, nails clicking on the tile as he made his way across the floor to the back door and looked over his shoulder at Spock.

The hybrid knew the action well and set aside the nearly gone yogurt and crossed, opening the door and holding it back for Nemo A534 to step through. The dog walked out onto the porch, stopped and looked back at him again.

Spock looked back at the dog for a moment before stepping outside and pulled the door shut behind him. Nemo a534 waited until Spock was walking towards him before trotting down the stairs and starting across the semi-dark lawn towards one of the main gates that Spock knew led out into the large, main pasture that according to arial maps of the ranch, reached well up into the mountains and over. stretching through the high plateau meadows nearer to the summit.

Spock had not traveled further than the slender creek running through the pasture to date. Warned against it for large predators and getting lost or exposure to the elements. In regard Spock did not travel into this pasture often unless it was to collect some horse or release one.

The one eyed dog slipped under the gate and stood on the other side, waiting patiently when Spock unchained. stepped through then secure the gate behind him. The dog set off at a slow and steady walk, making it clear there was no rush in his intentions and Spock closed the gap to walk at the dog's hip, tucking his hands into the large front pocket of his hooded sweatshirt.

They walked on in the slowly growing light. The slowly drying grass whispering at Spock's knees. When it thickened Spock fell into step behind Nemo A534 as the dog cut easily through the stalks. They mounted the hill and started back down A small clique band of the herd, only six horses, was on the other side of the slope, mingling with wild mule deer. The group lurched, spooking as one but when the mule deer whirled and sprinted away in massive leaps, their silvery pelts flashing in the pale light, the horses relaxed, a few recognized Spock and nickered at him as they moved closer. Spock and Nemo A534 moved down the slope, right into the small band, a few horses arching their heads deeply to sniff noses with the dog while Spock pulled a hand free to pass his fingers over their nostrils, foreheads or ears but didn't stop, following Nemo A534 dutifully through the band and back onto open pasture. The horses nickered after him and one that Spock recognized specifically was one of Jim's horses, started to follow them.

River Dog. A slight, smaller animal that was a Keiger Mustang caught off the range and the blond had adopted from the Bureau of Land Management was pale grulla animal was an oddly shaped blaze down his face. The mustang bore the series of freeze branded numerals along the arch of his neck. The horse was bright, even tempered and still 'green', his training not entirely done. Cody and Jim were working between them to mature the young horse and it was expected that the next time Jim returned from space River Dog would be settled, fully grown and a balanced horse.

River Dog nicked and followed on Spock's heels. The hybrid felt the mustang nudge his shoulder ever now and again. The horse followed on for a few yards before giving Spock one last nudge before he turned and trotted back along his path towards the band with a nicker over his shoulder at the two.

Spock and Nemo A534 evened out as the slope smoothed. and banked into the creek. The water was was only about the depth to Spock's mid-calf but several yards wide. It gurgled softly over the stoney bed and lapped at the bank, small crests catching the light of the slowly rising sun and flickering gold.

Nemo A534 turned and walked along the bank for a bit before the surface of the creek was broken by large, flat chunks of stone that created a kind of makeshift walkway through the water.

The dog gingerly jumped to the first stone before bounding to the next one. Spock stalled for a long moment, staring at the edge of the water that had kind of become the border of his world on the ranch. Beyond this point, while fenced, was wild land.

A sharp dark cut through the still morning and Spock looked up to where Nemo A534 was waiting on the other side of the creek, his paws slightly muddied and fur damp from minute spray and the dew clinging to the mixed wild grasses of the field.

Spock licked his lips quietly before carefully stepping out onto the first stone. It rocked slightly under his weight and water bubbled up and curled against the edge of his boot. Spock hovered before swinging forwards to step onto the next stone. It too rocked slightly and Spock felt no surprise when he continued across the reek that none of the stones were entirely secure and he made the trek across with little more than dampened boots and hem of his jeans.

He climbed back onto the bank where Nemo A534 waited until the hybrid was on steady footing again before taking up the lead and starting off into the grass of the far bank. Spock fell back into step behind the dog as they crossed the low dip of the wide stretch of mountain wild grass before it slowly started to incline.

Sooner than Spock realized he was nearly hiking as the grass shortened and gave way to mountain scrub, rocky earth and scattered tree line.

Nemo A534 steered them off to the side a bit, cutting into a deer path that had been widened by horses or cattle and deepened for a much smoother climb. The path rutted out and fell along a line of fencing that was of a different kind than down in the base of Native Sky. This fencing was a tight, narrow mesh that was stiff and harsh, strung tightly between large wood, round posts and topped with two heavy strings of barbed wire.

Spock paused for a moment, touching the mesh and felt the harsh, rough edges of it before wrapping his fingers around the barbed wire, pressing the pad of his thumb lightly into the twisted spike nearest where his hand was. A small flare of pain crossed his hand but gave no more as Spock thrummed the wire. He blinked and looked down, through the mesh to where the other side of the fence was worn in a similar state to it was his side.

He blinked at the sight of large imprints in the dirt and dried mud, looking very much like the pad print of a dog.

Wolf tracks, pacing up and down along the fence.

Spock thumbed the barbed wire again.

This was one of the wolf proof fences that were set up on the property.

The hybrid blinked as he turned the idea over, realizing that it was his first fully formed and coherent thought for sometime since he'd surrendered himself to Nemo A534's lead.

"Spock?"

The hybrid didn't jump but he looked up, blinking slowly. Up the trail a bit stood the tilted forms of Cody, Jim, Blackbird, Yellow Wolf, Wagi and Situpsa. They all peered down at him and Nemo A534 with pricked ears, tilted heads and concerned and curious eyes.

The hybrid glanced around, noticing the world was bathed in a slightly dulled glow of near mid morning. The sky a pale grey and over cast as it had been further north the day before.

"Spock, what're you doing up here?" Jim asked and eased Yellow Wolf down the deer path towards him a bit. Wagi and Situpsa bounded down to meet and sniff noses with Nemo A534, the three dogs pawing at each other and nipping playfully.

Spock looked from Jim towards Cody then back again.

"Doing nothing." Spock confessed quietly, pulling his hand away from the barbed wire and stepping towards the blonde and overo buckskin.

Realization crossed Jim's face as the meaning sunk in. Once it had passed the concern in his eyes faded and was flooded again with that eerie loneliness and shame that had been there earlier, dulling the color of his eyes until they were nearer to a pale and dulled cornflower than the cerulean that seemed natural and healthy to the blonde.

Cody flicked her eyes between Jim and Spock hen sighed silently and urged Blackbird on. The buckskin stud sidestepped around the other horse and down the slope before sidestepping around Spock as well, not even acknowledging the hybrid. But Cody reached out and gently feathered her fingers through Spock's hair as she passed, giving him a single, affectionate stroke before she moved on down the slope, the three dogs bounding after her.

Spock turned his attention back around towards Jim when Yellow Wolf eased a few steps closer, ears pricked forwards and he nickered softly. Spock reached out instinctively and brushed his fingertips over the velvet nostrils and soft lips, getting the quiet hum and press of the horse's mind through the small contact as the overo buckskin mouthed his fingers gently.

"Nemo A534 led me here." Spock said.

"Kind of illogical... following a one eyed dog halfway up a mountain... isn't it?"

"Indeed." Spock agreed, smoothing his hand down the side of Yellow Wolf's muzzle. "But I have learned that Nemo A534's intentions and purposes are often far better and more pure than most humanoids that profess higher cognitive thinking."

Jim gave a weak, tilted smile but said nothing. Casting his dulled eyes towards the fence, tracing it's lines with his vision.

Spock shifted until he was standing at Yellow Wolf's neck, combing his fingers through the multi-toned mane and over the thick muscle of the slightly arched neck. The hybrid rolled a few strand of wiry hair between his fingers.

"Jim... my only regret for what I have learned of your experiences were not divulged by you."

The blonde flinched slightly, eyes still cast on the fence, his frame so still Spock nearly missed him breathing.

Spock hesitated, considering touching Jim before refrained keeping his fingers tangled in Yellow wolf's mane.

"Though I have no regrets for what I have learned."

Jim remained still, quiet and eyes cast away and this time Spock did not stop himself. He reached out and laid his hand gently on the jut of Jim's knee. The blonde's head snapped around, eyes dropping to where Spock was touching his knee then back up to Spock's face, his own visage raw and confused, open.

Spock wet his lips before speaking clearly but quietly.

"I would know everything about you... given time and of your own volition."The hybrid paused. "I have called you rival and enemy, comrade and captain. I call you friend... and I hope in time I would call you 'brother'."

Jim blinked down at him, after a long moment the eyes darkened and returned to their natural cerulean color, flushed and healthy again, a flicker of silver at the edge.

"Spock. _I've_ been calling _you_ 'brother' for a while."

Spock tilted his head up at him and Jim offered that same weakened smile before shifting forwards a bit on Yellow Wolf's bare back and offered his hand. Spock tensed slightly and eyed it quietly.

"C'mon. You're not walking back down. Ride with me."

The hybrid stalled. "I have never ridden Yellow Wolf or double before."

"All you have to do is keep your seat." Jim assured and after a long moment Spock reached forwards and wrapped fingers around Jim's wrist, the warm, steady pulse of his mind contradicted against his cooler skin temperature. It thrummed and for a moment Spock felt a curl of what could have been recognition.

Spock blinked, pausing and gingerly tightening his grip and the same flare of familiarity thrummed back.

Jim's mind knew him, recognized him, unconsciously.

Spock let the taste of the idea roll over in his mind for a long moment, feeling it out before letting it settle and Spock stepped closer to set his free hand on Yellow Wolf's rump.

"On three, alright?" Jim asked and Spock nodded. "One. Two-"

The blonde pulled than the hybrid vaulted up smoothly, tightening his grip on Jim's wrist and used him as an anchor as he swung his leg over. the movement was awkward and unpracticed and Spock's cheek and temple collided with the plane of Jim's shoulder before he was settled be near the base of Yellow Wolf's spine. His chest only a few inches from Jim's back.

The blonde held on for a lingering moment before letting go of Spock's wrist and shifting forwards on the horse's shoulder a bit more.

"It will not strain him?" Spock asked when he felt Yellow Wolf shift and square up under the doubled weight.

"Not to bad. It'll be a little rough on him because of the slope but he'll be alright. I'll rub him down when we get back and give him a shot of Bute... but it'll be easier on his back if you're higher on his spine."

Spock looked down and realized he was in fact sitting directly over the weakest part of the horse's spinal column. He hesitated to move forwards, there was little room to take up and moving to a more acceptable position would result in moving directly into Jim immediate space.

"Don't get shy on me now, Spock." Jim urged gently from over his shoulder. "I'm supposed to make you hang onto me anyway. We've got left behind a bit and Yellow Wolf's going to kick up his gear."

Spock gingerly shifted forwards, closing the gap until his chest was near flush with the blondes.

"Hang on now. You haven't been on anyone like Wolfie before."

Spock hesitated before carefully and lightly wrapping his arms around Jim's gut, locking his hands together over Jim's belly button and shifted forwards until his front was pressed against the blonde's back. He felt the muscles rise and fall, contracting and relaxing, flexing under his arms and hands in a steady rhythm.

As soon as he was settled Yellow Wolf seemed to shift in place, prancing slightly in place.

The muscles tightened slightly under Spock's grip.

"You ready?" The hybrid felt the low roll and rumble of Jim's chest vibrating as the blonde spoke.

"I am." Spock responded.

"Alright little brother." Jim said to Yellow Wolf, the horse snorted and pawed at the earth. "Let'r buck."

Yellow Wolf launched from his stand still into a full gallop. Spock lurched, colliding roughly with Jim's back and tightening his grip on the blonde instinctively.

Yellow Wolf plunged down the slope. Hooves skidding on rocky earth as he ducked and wove between the thin tree line. The overo buckskin twisted and sidestepped in twists and jerks, cutting so sharply Spock was left still looking in the last direction they had gone, but so smoothly the hybrid felt no fear of pitching over the the side and falling. The horse was galloping down hill. His stride short and erratic but his hooves never went from under him. More than once Spock felt the stud's rear quarters pitch downwards, rolling and tucking under the horse as he spun on his heels to find better footing or actually launch up into the air, leaping over a log or rock or some kind of tilt in the earth.

The slope dipped sharply and Spock pressed himself tightly into Jim's back, flushing his cheek against the shoulder blade and watched the frightening catapult down the mountain from over the blonde's collar.

Suddenly the erratic pace of the stud smoothed, lengthened and gained in speed.

Yellow Wolf galloped full tilt down the now grassy and smooth earth of the slope. His pace checked a bit And Spock looked sideways noticing that they were closing in on Cody and Blackbird, striding along with the dogs bounding a head.

He felt Yellow Wolf's sides vibrate as the horse nickered loudly at his brother.

Blackbird didn't check his pace, only loped along smoothly, neck arched regally, ears quirked forwards but he must have made some kind of small noise as Cody turned slightly and looked back at them as Yellow Wolf continued his galloped stride, only checking it when they came even with Blackbird. They dropped down to a lope with the Buckskin stud. They rocked and bobbed in a smooth rhythm, pacing so closely that their steps were near matched. Spock relaxed some allowed the rise and fall of the horse's back roll his muscle naturally.

The gallop was something he had not experienced yet, the lope was familiar to him. he did not feel misplaced and the occasionally light collision and soft thump of his chest with Jim's shoulders was just another tone in the beat. His pelvis flushed with Jim as their hips twisted and tilted to meet the horse and each other.

Spock relaxed and breath heavily, letting his head drop and forehead press into the dip of Jim's collar. The muscles of Jim's torso hiccuped slightly.

"Spooked you a little, huh?" Jim asked over his shoulder.

Spock gave a small breath that may have been a sigh. "Yellow Wolf's precision is... startling. I was unaware that a horse could turn so sharply."

"That's the Cutter."

"Cutter?"

"Yellow Wolf's a rodeo champion, bred, born, trained and earned. But his best event is Cutting. He's NCHA royalty. Turns on a dime. It always gives a scar the first time he does it to someone new. And we're not exactly in an arena on smooth footing." Jim assured.

"This occurs often? Yellow Wolf giving fresh riders a a demonstration of the movements of a Cutting horse?"

Jim paused so long Spock suspected, though his lips were near in Jim's ear, that the blonde had not heard him.

"Jim-"

"No. Other than me and Cody and the Pups... You're the first."

Another pause lengthened and Spock turned the thought over a few times in his own mind.

"We'll have to put you on him on your own and in the dirt to get a real feel for it. Who knows... Cutting might be your thing. I know if I was a virgin and Wolfie was the one that broke me in I'd never go back from Cutting... can't anyway, really."

Jim tone was calm and slightly teasing but Spock felt the barest tremble in it.

Spock could sense there was some tentative extension of not only trust but of self, in his words.

There was no doubt that Jim's partnership with Yellow Wolf was precious to the blonde. The horse meant more to Jim than his own life. And he was offering to Spock the chance to seat the horse, to work with him the way that Jim did. Offering this to Spock was more monumental than anything that had come before.

And Spock shied from it.

The idea to seat Yellow Wolf had never crossed his mind. It seemed something that simply could not be done or would not come to pass. Yellow wolf was so completely 'Jim's horse' ti seemed a violation to daydream or consider it otherwise.

If Spock took the chance and partnered with Yellow Wolf, no matter the time spent, and performed some misstep or crossed some line Spock knew the damage in the wake of it would not, could not be repaired. Spock would lose _everything_ that has come to pass in the last five weeks.

He'd lose Jim.

And yet, declining the offer out right may do just the same.

The hybrid knew he'd stalled far to long.

"Perhaps it would be wise to test me metal in several different sports prior to interacting with Yellow Wolf. If he is so convincing in his art that he would... 'ruin' me for other events." The hybrid reasoned and under his light grip the muscles relaxed.

"There's an idea. Besides. We're not going to pull any cattle down until we're going to test the new horses out on 'em. It'll be a couple days anyway."

"Then I shall look forward to the trial."

Jim laughed softly. And Spock felt the blonde lightly pat his fore arm, giving it a squeeze before going and with it went all the tension that had come to pass in only a few words from the blonde.

They relaxed back into the rhythm while the horse below them eased his pace down to a longer and slower lope when the slope evened out. Spock pulled his head up from Jim's shoulder. They had reached near the base of the mountain, the creek and beyond it the fences and stable barn and ranch home where in sight.

The two horses dropped down into a trot as they closed the distance and fell finally into a walk when they started across the creek, hooves splashing and setting steadily in the rush of water and rocky bed.

A few scattered horses nickered at them from the other side though none broke from their grazing and collected bands to truly greet or follow them.

They climbed the slight slope, mounted the top to look down at the stead before they started down themselves.

The three dogs trotted off, ducking around the gate and bounding across the yard and up the porch to lounge and rest in the shade. A number of the Brotherhood, their wives, the Pups and McCoy were all sitting on the assorted outdoor furniture on the porch, probably having finished their breakfast already as it was late morning now. Cody whistled, shrill and high and heads snapped in their direction before hands lifted in waves and a few whistles were thrown back up at them.

As the two horse came up to the gate, Cody dismounted. Spock felt a light touch on his forearm, just above his wrist.

"Down you get, Spock."

The hybrid disentangled his arms from around the blonde and carefully slid down to the earth. And before Spock could step back the blonde did the same, tossing the reins over the horse's neck. When he stepped away Yellow Wolf and Spock feel in tow behind him, slipping out through the gate while Cody held it.

They slipped through and looked up as a large, dark green pick up truck with three white tool boxes mounted in the bed, turned into the yard from the long drive. The tires grinding in the dirt and gravel as it climbed up and parked next to the Durango.

"That's the vet." Jim said quietly.

"A veterinarian?" The hybrid questioned.

"He's going to once over the new stock. Spock, will you go and meet him, Cody'll be out in a bit to give you a hand with Stephen." Jim urged as he led Yellow Wolf towards the stable barn.

The hybrid hesitated before turning and crossing the yard towards the truck as the man dropped out.

From on the porch Casper and Cikala were physically dragging a protesting McCoy down the steps and towards the stranger who's face split into unadultered joy at the sight of the medical chief while McCoy himself was paling rapidly in some places and flushing in others so it was that he had a slightly blotchy appearance.

"Hey boys!" The stranger crowed joyously.

"Howdy Stephen." Casper rumbled and hauled McCoy by his elbow forwards while he reached to take the veterinarian's hand in a firm shake. Cikala did the same.

"Hey there Leonard, lookin' fine today." the man purred and Mccoy swallowed heavily and tried to not to subtly yank his arm free.

"Stephen." He growled and the stranger's grin widened.

"Stephen, this is Spock Grayson, Hoksilato's protege." Casper jerked his head towards the hybrid.

The man smiled, hands setting on his hips, his voice continued in the low purr. "That what they callin' it these days?"

Casper and Cikala let out barks of laughter and the latter thumped a hand on the man's shoulder, who grinned further.

"Two of the check today are his." Casper said after a moment.

"Alright then!" The man's tone lightened. "Then we can get started. Lead the way there Spock."

"I'll got get a lead rope." Casper assured and roughly shoved McCoy towards the smaller stranger and started off towards the stable barn. Before the doctor could bolt the veterinarian looped an arm around his shoulders and tugged him along. McCoy seemed to be trying to keep as much distance between their bodies as possible and failing miserably.

"Spock. If you don't mind-" The stranger waved him on. The hybrid hesitated before turning and leading the way across the yard towards the paddock where the newly purchased horses were loitering. In his wake walked Cikala, the stranger, McCoy and trailing around them loosely were the Pups and the dogs.

The large bay Morgan, Esthul'kov lit up with a shrill whinny at the sight of Spock and rushed eagerly to the fence.

"Guess we know who's baby that is!" The stranger chirped.

"Indeed."

Spock knew little about Veterinary Physician Stephen Strain.

And looking and speaking to him he knew even less.

Strain was a small, slight man. His size so compact that the shoulder of most of his patients were well above the veterinarian's own height. He could have been considered handsome, a rounded jaw and fluffed, cinnamon brown hair that he hid under a faded green tied bandanna. He had alert hazel eyes, tanned skin a bounce in his stride and an internal joy and vibrant personality that laced his speech with exaggerated noises, jokes and a few very kosher innuendos in the presence of the Pups that turned raunchy with a fully adult crowd and the younglings out of earshot even only by a few feet.

He was a jovial spirited creature that seemed to have the sole purpose in life of making McCoy blush.

He wore scarred work boots and muddied jeans with a dark green polo shirt that sported stitched words on the right chest _Doctor Stephen Strain, VMD; Double RS Medical Practice_ in gold. There was a medic kit slung over his shoulder in the same way that McCoy carried at times.

Spock had been told that Strain, when called to Native Sky, practically bounded around and fawned on Cody like she was the second coming for some Terran deity.

If what Casper said was true then Strain would quiet literally clear his schedule when he got a call from Cody. All other patients that were not in danger of losing life or limb pushed back to the next day's agenda and Strain diligently looked over every single horse in Cody's stable, regardless of their health or need, in addition to performing was ever service she requested specifically, then proceeded to give every dog, cat he could catch, any penned cattle and the very foul tempered male goat, Rufus thorough exams.

Spock wondering if this morning would go much in the way he had been told they would.

They stepped up to the fence and Spock reached to unchain the gate when a sharp whistle stilled his movements and drew all attention.

"CODY!" Strain howled in joy and bolted towards the petite rancher as she walked next to Casper, each carrying a lead rope.

The small woman smiled slightly and opened her arms, allowing Strain to wrap her up and actually lift her off the earth, embracing her tightly before dropping her back to the earth. He draped his arm over her shoulders in the same way that he had McCoy... who was no where in sight.

The trio ambled over and towards where Spock, Cikala and an assortment of the Pups and dogs were waiting by the gate. From over the top rail of the fence Esthul'kov was nosing at Spock's elbow and making, soft, sweet sounds into his sleeve.

The hybrid turned and ran a hand over the side of the horse's muzzle and over his rounded cheek.

"I told Spock here I'd look at his ponies first." Strain was reasoning through a grin.

Cody nodded and lifted her a hand to sign. _**You're going to want to do one of them first and the other one last. **_

"One of them a tough customer?" Strain responded with a tilt of his head, clearly fluent in sign language.

Cody gave a sad smile and a slight nod and Strain seemed to sober, nodding himself.

"What are we up for, Cody?" The veterinarian asked.

_**Full physical and rounds of vaccinations for the new stock. **_

"You got it. Spock-"

The hybrid looked up at Strain.

"The bay yours?"

"He is."

"Alrightly. Lets give him a run down quick and you can got get your other horse ready while I do the rest in the paddock. We'll build everyone's files over lunch." Strain smiled widely.

"Glad to know ya've invited yerself, Stephen." Casper rumbled good naturedly. "Caniwahu'll over joyed."

Strain beamed and smirked with an almost sinister kind of air.

Casper passed over a blue lead rope to Spock and the hybrid turned and led Strain along the side of the fence towards the gate. The other three adults wrangling the Pups and urging them back or to watch from behind the fence.

Esthul'kov followed Spock closely along the fence line and tried to crowd the hybrid when he stepped into the paddock.

"Looks like somebody's twitter painted for you, my friend." Strain laughed while Spock soothed and clipped the lead rope into place on the chin ring of his halter.

"I do not understand that term of reference, Doctor Strain." Spock reasoned quietly.

"Just means he adores you. "Alright Spock, we're going to do a lameness test, check out a few muscle groups for soreness and then give him the Fall round of shots. Sound good?"

"That is acceptable." Spock nodded.

"He's a beauty to, Spock. What is he?"

"Esthul'kov is a Morgan horse."

Strain cocked and eyebrow up. "Big for a Morgan. He looked healthy though. Nice fat on him."

As he spoke Strain started running his hands lightly all over the horse, feeling over his back and under his gut, across his shoulders and hips and down all his legs. Pressing into thick muscles in some places and lightly tapping others. Spock stood calmly and allowed the Morgan to nose at his hip.

"All his bone feels good. No soreness. Walk him away, about five yards, turn him in a left circle then a right circle and walk him back."

Spock nodded and urged Esthul'kov around and did as instructed, Strain watching intently. As Spock came back towards the small veterinarian the man spoke.

"Now just do the away and back at a trot."

Spock turned the bay and urged him up to an in hand trot, his steps light and smooth and eager to follow Spock and turned on his heels to trot back.

"Movements good, not lameness. All he needs is a couple vaccines and i'll build his file."

"He is in good health?" Spock asked.

"Very good health." Strain assured with a smile far gentler than any of his others he'd shown previously. He dug into the medic bag and root around until he came up with two different syringes and two small glass, cloth topped bottles. He lifted the bottles upside down and drew a dose of each into the syringes before tucking the bottles back away and pulled out a small packet he tore open with his teeth and pulled out a sterilizing wipe.

Spock held firmly onto the Morgan's halter while Strain slid up, talking quietly to the horse that seemed not to care he was there at all, throughly engrossed in Spock's presence.

The veterinarian swiped the pad over a roll of muscle in Esthul'kov's neck, cleaning it before gently sliding the first needle into the muscle. The bay gave a little jerk and a soft nicker but relaxed again as Strain administered the drug, pulled the used needle free and slid the other into place and repeated the action.

"All done, boy. Good man." Strain praised and stroked the Morgan's throat affectionately. The bay nickered and nudged him before turning back to Spock when the hybrid unclipped the lead.

"Okay Spock. He's good to go. Go on and get the other one ready." Strain urged and turned as Cody slipped into the paddock and waved the veterinarian over towards Rockhound.

"Who's next?" Strain bounded across the paddock.

"My pony!" Joanna near screamed and scrambled between the bars of the gate to grab ahold of Strain's hand and tugged him towards the deaf rancher and Appaloosa.

Spock slipped back through the gate to the protest of Esthul'kov and started along the line of the paddock towards the round pen where the smoke grey Quarab was waiting and watching everything from a distance.

"Khrash-yel." Spock called quietly.

The damaged mare's head swung around towards him, pinned her ears and snorted softly as she backed up a few paces before pricking her ears forwards again and looking towards the other horses being inspected by the veterinarian.

Spock hesitated, knowing it would be far wiser to wait for or call on Jim to aid him, but the hybrid thought of Jim and Yellow Wolf. Their rhythm and sync. Their partnership built solely between themselves.

The hybrid steeled himself and carefully unchained the gate, slipped through it and shut it behind him.

The mare pinned her ears and backed up again, blowing air through her nose at Spock in warning.

The hybrid held out his arms a bit, offering open palms.

"Khrash-yel. _Dungau fam nash-veh klau k'dular_." The hybrid soothed and approached slowly. The smoke grey mare swayed her ears, cocking her head slightly towards him.

Spock took it a promising sign that the mare did not bolt and run circles around him in the larger space of the round pen.

"_Dungau fam nash-veh klau k'dular_." Spock assured again and moved closer. "Do you not remember me, Khrash-yel?"

The mare snorted and pinned her ears nervously, muscles tightening when Spock took a step towards her. The hybrid noticed the changed and took a step back, giving the space back.

The mare relaxed instantly and in the dulled, amber eyes a spark of recognition bled into the suspicion and wariness. The hybrid waited for the flicker to fade but it didn't. The mare stayed more relaxed than she had been, nothing like Yellow Wolf or Blackbird when they were being handled, but far calmer than she had been the day before.

And for it Spock relaxed some himself, the smoke grey mare and the hybrid reflecting each other and Spock tried to slow his pace of breath to match the mare's. Spock waited a few moments before beginning the dance and balance between them again. Easing forwards slowly, backing off when the mare tensed and approaching again when she calmed.

But the restlessness seemed to have gone from the mare. Either exhausted or expected him to act a certain way... or already the mare trusted him in a way.

Spock approached slowly and carefully until he was within touching distance of the mare. She eyed him but didn't move in his direction. When Spock reached towards her halter, she tensed and lifted her head away.

Spock backed up a step.

And Khrash-yel followed him.

The hybrid blinked and took another step backwards.

The smoke colored mare gingerly took the step he'd given up, following him.

Spock hesitated before slowly and carefully walking backwards, a steady rhythm and pace and after a moment Khrash-yel followed, walking after him until they had made a complete circle of the round pen, following the edge of the fence.

Spock stopped and held up his hands, startling the mare slightly enough that she tossed her head and snorted before relaxing again. Spock took a breath and let it out in the same time that the mare did. They stood facing each other and breathing in sync for a moment before Spock reached forwards and looped his fingers through the halter and tugged her gently. She leaned back and pulled at his hand before taking the last step forwards before Spock clicked the lead rope into place.

The hybrid gingerly reached forwards and smoothed his fingertips over the bridge of her muzzle and she tossed her head, throwing his hand way but not before Spock's mind brushed hers.

He found it far quieter than it had been the day before. As if soothed.

Spock looped the lead rope loosely around his wrist and continued their slow walk backwards, circling around the edge of the ring. when he passed the west side he noticed Jim, Cody and Strain leaning against the fencing, watching.

Jim gave him a tilted smile and dip of his head in approval.

Strain held it hand out, perched in it was a large, circle of grainy brown substance.

"Slip that to her Spock." The veterinarian urged and as he passed Sock lifted it from the smaller man's palm, turned it over and sniffed it. It looked and smelled like an oat and apple horse treat. Spock carefully offered it to the mare.

Khrash-yel tilted her head away slightly, ears swayed before she gave his fingers and the treat a sniff, nosed the treat before carefully lifting the treat between her lips and crunched it between her teeth, seemed a little more than surprised and actually sniffed at Spock's hand, looking for another.

"Walk her around a bit." Strain urged.

The hybrid cocked and eyebrow at him but continued their pace around the ring, Khrash-yel following him dutifully.

Halfway around Spock noticed the mare's head dropping and a sluggishness in her movements. Spock stopped her moving and gingerly reached out to touch her face, through the small contact he felt a foggy, sleepiness.

He looked up as Jim, Cody and Strain slipped through the gate and started off at a slow walk towards the pair. The smoke grey mare tossed her head slightly but it dipped lower, hanging a bit more and ears swayed.

"A sedative." Spock said quietly and smoothed his hand assuringly over Khrash-yel's neck.

"Less stress on all of us, Spock." Strain assured. "Jim said we needed to pull shoes."

Spock's eyes turned to the blonde. Jim was carrying a blue bucket that was filled with tools.

"She will not be able to perform a lameness test properly." Spock protested quietly.

Jim's eyes snapped to the hybrid and he set the bucket down and approached slowly, Strain and Cody hanging back when Jim motioned them to do so. The blonde stood close to Spock and gently laid his hand over the bridge of Khrash-yel's muzzle, just above Spock's.

"We watched her walking around with you, Spock. She's got a little bit of hitch in her walk but that'll probably smooth out when the shoes come out and her hooves are put right. And she's probably sore all over. Spock, she's not in the best shape. At all. We're going to spend a couple months just getting her healthy. Trying to test her out right now just isn't fair. Not to her. The vet'll give her a once over, we'll pull the shoes and smooth out her hooves and does her up to flush her system and start on new footing. Alright?"

Spock listened quietly before nodding in agreement.

"We're only here to do what's right by her. Okay?"

"Yes."

Jim kept his touch across Khrash-yel's muzzle then lifted his other hand to rest on Spock's shoulder.

"Stephen's going to put together a a guide for us to get her back into shape. We'll go into Darby and buy a bunch of weight builder and vitamins and everything."

Spock nodded again.

"Don't worry Spock." Jim assured, with a slight smile. "She'll be fit enough to kill us in no time."

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**A/N: Once again, sorry about the delay. Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. **

**Vulcan Translation:**

**Dungau fam nash-veh klau k'dular - I will not harm thee**


	17. Chapter 17

**Holy Overlord Misha On TOAST that took FOREVER. Excuses excuses but I lost my home computer for a week due to a power surge then was in California for a week for the Comic Con. Then go back and only just now have gotten a new home computer. And by then the drive was a little off so this chapter is a little fluxy but it is done. And the next one is already outlined and ready to get worked on. Hopefully it'll get done a whole lot faster than this chapter did. Thanks to everyone for sticking with the Native Sky series. **

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**Summary: **_**Jim whistled low. "Spock you are quite the homewrecker."**_

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**Lost Horse Creek, Montana**

"**When you are lonely, let me be your companion. When you are tired, let me carry the load. When you need to learn, let me teach you… after all, I am your horse."**

**-Unknown**

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****Chapter Seventeen: Climb**

**"**_**Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn."**_

**- John Muir**

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****Native Sky Ranch**

**124 Flathead Road**

**Lost Horse Creek, Bitterroot Mountain Range, Rocky Mountains, Ravalli County, Montana**

**Stardate: 2260**

**October 30**

**1008 Hours**

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Esthul'kov was unusually friendly.**

And for his outgoing attitude the Morgan gelding was received with a openness and good nature from even the most standoffish and antisocial horses in Cody's herd.

The chipper bay dragged Spock around willingly, shoving his nose into stalls to greet other horses, eagerly bouncing along the fence lines of the paddocks and pastures sniffing and touching noses with the other livestock over the wire and even exchanging a few friendly nips shoves.

His good attitude was catching and when the gelding fawned on Spock and seemed to be seeking out physical contact between them that by the time Spock had tied the Morgan and started to groom him the hybrid was at his most content. The happiness and affection that was pouring off of Esthul'kov was almost making Spock light headed.

But pleasantly light headed.

Spock smoothed his palms over the sleek bay coat. Feeling the excitement and anticipation thrumming under the twitching skin. The Morgan must have truly been exhausted the day of the horse fair. His energy seemed boundless and barely controlled, but controlled. If Spock seemed to show, even remotely, some kind of nervousness or hesitation the gelding laved attention on Spock, nudging and rubbing and touching the hybrid in anyway possible. Even at one point the gelding lifted his head high and dropped it lightly on top of Spock's skull. His jaw bones digging slightly into his hair and head. A warm, low pitched rumble chattered up from Esthul'kob chest and vibrated against Spock's skull.

The hybrid allowed himself a small flush of amusement and the slightest tilt of his lips into a small smile as he reached over and patted the gelding's thick throat, sensing the pulse of blood and drum of heart in the thick veins and muscle, threading his fingers through the coarse black mane.

Once the nut brown back was smooth and shining glossy in the air Spock offered the tack for inspection before lightly fit the saddle pad and synthetic Western saddle across his spine and cinched it up under his gut. The horse had no vices and didn't try to shift or sidestep or puff out against the girth.

Spock buckled the breast collar into place and smoothed a hand down the gelding's throat again before lightly slipping a Quarter Horse bit between Esthul'kov's teeth and buckling the bridle up over his halter. Spock untied the horse, looping the lead rope over the horn of the saddle and draped the reins across his neck before gently, pulling the bay away from the stalls door to stand more comfortably in the aisle before the hybrid lightly vaulted up into the saddle, settled himself and confidently trotted Esthul'kov out off the stable barn and into the lawn. The bay flicked his ears towards the ranch home and Spock cocked his own head in the direction and heard the faint, muffled sounds of the Chicalato clan scrambling to finish their breakfasts and get the Pups sorted out.

Spock steered the gelding around and trotted towards the round pen on the far side of the stable barn.

Esthul'kov nickered brightly at the smoke gray Quarab in the pen.

Khrash'yel stayed were she was at the far end of the pen, ears swayed and head low, she seemed to glare at them before shutting her large brown eyes again. She was standing gingerly, her hooves bunched under her and her weight shifting tenderly.

Jim had been the one to strip and clean up the mare's hooves the day before. Jim in fact had been the one to do everything. Spock wondered if he had been projecting his agitation at Khrash'yel's sedated state and her handling. Jim had acted as a go between, when Cody or Strain could have easily taken the work themselves Jim took the responsibility. Administering vaccines and reporting his opinion on her fitness. Of which Strain seemed more than happy to take at word.

Then, for over an hour, Jim had bent and knelt in the dirt, cut away the heavy show shoes and pulled out twisted nails that had actually begun to rust in her hooves. The blonde, layer by layer had shorn and trimmed her hooves, evening them out and cutting away the frog and horn of the underside of her hooves, in some places the tissue to soft and possibly hiding the beginnings of infection. Jim had thoroughly scrubbed and bathed the each hoof with a foul smelling, green liquid, rubbing alcohol before patting them dry and administering nan additional vaccine and medication. His final act had been to coat each hoof in a thin layer of some kind of epoxy. filling up the cracks and holes that had been made by the shoes and sealing the hooves temporarily against the elements.

Jim had warned Spock that Khrash'yel would be sore footed for a few days and for it her temper far more sour than it had been before.

Spock and Esthul'kov stepped along the edge of the fencing until they were as close to Khrash-yel as possible.

"Greeting Khrash-yel." Spock offered quietly and the Morgan gelding under him nickered softly.

The smoke colored mare stayed where she was but pinned her ears and ignored them.

Esthul'kov flicked an ear before nickering a little louder at her and shifted closer to the fence.

The Quarab pinned her ears so flat her profile changed as she twisted her head away, snaking her neck and blowing loudly though her lips.

Spock stayed silent, keeping out of the small communication between his two mounts.

Esthul'kov twisted around and stepped up to the fence until his chest was pressed into the mesh and neck arched over the barbed wire. He flipped his ears forwards, cocked his head slightly to the side and seemed to give a light and charming grin towards the mare and mad a low inviting noise in his chest and throat.

Khrash-yel jerked her head around and narrowed her brown eyes and snorted harshly.

Esthul'kov, still keeping his light footed, friendly and open posture gave a light pitched whinny and tossed his head as if to encourage her to come over.

Khrash-yel blinked, confusion seemed to cross the mare's face before she pinned her ears again with a sour snort then gingerly, sidestepped, turning until her rump was facing them and she stood newly resolute in ignoring them.

Spock was half sure had her hooves not given her so much pain she would have flown at them.

The hybrid felt the bay Morgan's chest start to vibrate to manifest a call to the mare Spock gently put pressure on the bit between his teeth and the gelding silenced himself and twitched an ear back towards him.

"I believe her patience for us has run it's course Esthul'kov. Perhaps we shall return after the day's ride and engage her again." Spock coaxed and gently turned the Morgan on his heels and urged him away from the round pen and the Quarab.

As they approached the paddock next to the round pen Spock noticed McCoy and Joanna leading the blue gray roan appaloosa cow pony, Rockhound, out of the enclosure.

"Hi Spock!" Joanna whooped happily at the sight of the hybrid and was clinging to the lead rope linked to the cow pony's halter, though McCoy's hand was wrapped in the braided rope above hers for added security. Though Spock was half sure McCoy's grip was more for the Doctor's benefit than controlling the Appaloosa. Spock was sure that Rockhound had no intention of bullying or running Joanna around.

"Good morning, Joanna. Doctor McCoy." Spock returned and urged Esthul'kov into step next to Rockhound and walk with them.

"Couldn't wait to throw a leg over, huh Spock?" McCoy rumbled lightly, there was an undertone of tension in his voice. Spock cocked and eyebrow upward and twitched his head to the side.

"Indeed, Doctor. I find myself unable to resist Esthul'kov's company. I assume that Joanna will accompany us on the ride today. Should I make a similar conclusion on your participation?"

McCoy shrugged a shoulder and after a moment of working out what the hybrid had said the eight year old whirled on her sire.

"Ya are comin', Right Papa?"

McCoy fenced momentarily before nodding in agreement. "Guess it's expected."

Joanna smiled broadly.

"Cody will be most pleased." Spock responded with a tilted eyebrow and tilted his head in satisfaction when McCoy flushed slightly.

"Spock. Not in front of Joanna, please." The Doctor hissed.

"S'okay Papa." Joanna chirped. "I know you like Miss Cody. Like like her. Like Tony Carmichael like likes me at school."

McCoy went rigid, demanding sharply. "Who's Tony Carmichael?"

Joanna ignored him and tugged Rockhound's lead rope out of her sire's hand and skipped away, the Appaloosa trotting sluggishly after her.

"Joanna?" McCoy barked after her, near fuming. Spock and Esthul'kov stayed at his side, the Doctor rounded on the hybrid and gelding. "Did she say Tony Carmichael like liked her?"

"I believe those were her words exactly and for better clarification she made no hesitation to compare her relation ship with Mister or Miss Carmichael with your interactions with Cody."

"There's nothin-" McCoy faltered, trying to decided which thread to chase. "Mister or Miss Carmichael!"

"I am under the impression that the moniker 'Tony' is sexless as well as abbreviations for more traditional titles such as Anthony, Anton or Antoinette."

McCoy gaped at him for a moment, his mind clearly spinning.

"Are you in need of assistance Doctor?" Spock asked.

The medical officer shook himself and ran a hand, tugging at the grey streaked, cinnamon strands. "Thirteen.'

"Pardon?"

"If we get the five year mission. When we come back Joanna'll be thirteen. And here she is, eight, and Tony Carmichael like likes her. What the Hell am I supposed to do, Spock?"

The hybrid turns the though over in his mind a few times, trying to see the logic in why the notion is enough to make the medical officer's voice waver slightly but he reigns in any comment centered around the concept of 'normal development' and 'logical human pubescent behavior' or 'not having any kind of similar experience because he was without offspring'. It was not so difficult as Spock had thought, curbing his first instinct to speak and instead, in a manner that Jim and Cody did more often than not, remained steady and silent at McCoy's side.

After a long moment the older man let out a long, rattling breath, gave himself a small shake and dug his fingers into his hair and stalked away. Leaving Spock and Esthul'kov looking after him.

A low vibration thrummed up through the bay Morgan's ribs. No sound drifted from the horse's throat but Spock felt the movement and sift of muscle, looking on as McCoy stiffly stalked into the stable barn and out of sight.

"Well look couldn't wait to throw a leg over."

Spock twisted in his seat at the deep rasp of Cikala. The Chicago Narcotics officer stood back a bit from the hybrid and the Morgan. He was dressed down and looked much the way the Cody did at all times. Faded and slightly tattered jeans, a dark tee shirt and a red and black plaid flannel button down hanging open off his shoulders. Tucked firmly under one arm, hanging by Cikala's grip around her stomach, was his daughter Toweya. The girl hung limply and placidly, arms and legs hanging towards the earth. She was dressed almost identical to her sire and he only movement was the child breathing.

Had Spock witnessed such a position undertaken between a Vulcan father and his child he would have been alarmed and concerning for the youngling's welfare.

But this kind of manhandling was common among the Chicalato clan and the Pups. Had it been absent then Spock would have been concerned.

The hybrid didn't respond to Cikala's words, the tone was to near to a teasing tenor to not be mistaken for a barb. The hybrid learned from Jim that when Cikala took on that tone and one was not prepared for a war of wit and insult, that one remain silent and relatively still and wait for The Coyote to find some other prey to gnaw on.

"Daddy?" Toweya's voice is slightly muffled.

"Hang on a minute sweatpea." Cikala gave her a slight jerk, her pony tail bobbing.

"Daddy. I'm ready to get on Bronty." Toweya informed him.

"She's not saddled yet-" The Chicago officer said back.

"When ya picked me up ya said we we're goin' to the barn and we've been walkin' in circles for five minutes. I'ma get dizzy and throw up on ya. So now can we go get Bronty?"

"She is referring to the mare named Brontosaurus?" Spock inquired.

"It's my favorite dinosaur." Toweya twisted slightly to try and address the hybrid.

Brontosaurus was a large Quarter Horse in Cody's barn whose coat was a mottled bay roan. The mare had a calm temperament and an alertness to her that Jim commonly referred to as 'scout behavior'. Referencing the wild bands of mustangs that in the open free land one of the family group was commonly more aware and tuned into their habitat and acting as a natural early warning system. Brontosaurus was not necessarily a sweet tempered horse, more aloof and unconcerned unless she was around the large white painted plastic barrels that Jim used for some kind of rodeo training with horses. In those times Brontosaurus became agitated, keyed up and tugged at the bit and if she was allowed to be near the training barrels she knocked them over, pushed them around or jumped over them.

"I was unaware that you owned the mare, Toweya." Spock quipped.

"Aunt Cody gave her to me for my fifth birthday. That's what happens when ya turn five. Aunt Cody gets ya a horse. Maza and Magazu just got Tick n' Tock this summer."

Tick and Tock was another familiar set of names and not the only set of twin horses on Cody's ranch, though they were the only twins that were Appaloosas. Tick Around The Clock and Tock's Keeping Time were both blanket marked chestnuts. The only way to tell them apart was the large blaze of white down Tock's muzzle. They were both calm and attentive and nearly inseprable and rarely did Jim or Cody take one from the other's sight. Jim confessed that he and Cody were training the pair of geldings for team sports, like team roping and penning. The two horses were tuned into each other so finely it would have been a waste not to use it. Wither or not the young twins Maza and Magazu were interested in competing in team rodeo sports was yet to be known but in their time away from the horses Jim and Cody were more than happy to put Tick and Tock through their paces.

"Daddy. My head's startin' to hurt." Toweya muttered and Cikala instantly swung her around, turned her over and hefted the child up into a bridal carry in his arms.

"Too much blood in that head, huh?" The Narcotics officer asked with a light smile.

"Yes." Toweya sighed, she looked slightly flushed and blinked slowly, but the rushed color in her face was already slipping away. "Can we go to Bronty now?"

"Yes ma'am." Cikala started off carrying the eight year old diligently.

"Bye Spock." Toweya called over her sire's shoulder, waving at him. A Spock lifted his own in return and glanced away from them as Jim and his mount ambled down from the stable barn towards him. The hybrid must have missed his and Cody's return.

Spock was a little surprised by Jim's saddled choice of mount. The blonde had ridden out that morning on the blue roan tobiano mare Blue Moon. The little ranch horse that harbored a dislike for Spock and had tried to unseat him some weeks before. But since his quiet return the blonde had traded out the painted mare for another of his horses.

Woyuske was a dull buckskin gelding with four knee high white socks, a semi-apron face marking, a single irregular patch of white on his gut and through the thick of his dark mane were woven in pale strands giving the horses a 'frosted' look. Woyuske was Kiger Mustang of local Montana stock, out of a wild band of horses in a strange territory to the south called the Badlands.

And Jim had caught him off the land himself.

He'd explained it'd been a kind of manhood ritual. A rite of passage. That as a teenager Jim had gone with Cody, Blackbird and Yellow Wolf into the still wild Badlands, tracked a band of Kiger mustangs, cut one out and had proceeded to 'run' the then stud buckskin a distance of nearly forty miles.

Jim doing most of it on foot.

The 'run' as Jim described it was more of a chase and a test of himself, not the Kiger. Jim had literally run after the mustang, driving him far from his herd, into feral territory pushing the horse further and further, not slowing or stopping unless the Kiger had, pursuing the chase doggedly until the moment had come that the mustang had stopped, turned and in the isolation and loss of his herd the horse had turned to Jim, seeking solace and companionship in the stranger that had driven him out.

Jim, admittedly, had hated doing it but it truly had been the gentlest way to get the job done. He'd been justified in his choice to run the Kiger, that he had suffered and strained and given his own sweat and blood in the chase before the mustang had turned to him. And while Jim had not been given the right to touch the mustang but they had walked together, bonding in a way that Jim had not with any of his other animals. After Yellow Wolf Jim's relationship with the Kiger was the longest partnership that Jim had of nearly twelve years. And on returning from the Badlands to where the then current Clan Chief of the Lakota Sioux tribe, Benjamin Chicalato and the patriarch of the Chicalato Clan and Benjamin's father, Joshua. And exhausted and wrung out with the Kiger in hand they had said he'd proven himself worthy of crossing into manhood.

Jim had named him Woyuske.

'Absolution'.

The Kiger was tall for his breed and stood a solid sixteen hands next to Esthul'kov. The older horse arched his neck as smoothly and deeply as any of the warmbloods or Saddlebreds at Native Sky. His profile just as fine and smooth as any highbred animal. Jim had trained and molded the Kiger well but there was still a shine of ferality in the horse and there had been days that Woyuske rebelled and even Jim's gentle handling and coaxing could not bring the horse back to himself.

For the time being he seemed just as calm and quiet as any domestic bred horse, mouthing at the soft, roller joint Quarter Horse bit that Jim had fitted him with instead of the bosal. The horse looked a little odd tacked up in Jim's favored saddle of honey colored leather tooled with a line of design shaped to look like a string of barbed wire. Spock was used to seeing the Kiger free of any kind of restraints or tack.

"How's he handling, Spock?" Jim asked quietly as he and Woyuske eased up until the buckskin Kiger and bay Morgan bumped noses and sniffed each other, sucking each other's breath quietly and humming to each other.

"Thus far Estul'kov has been an exceptional mount." Spock assured, his tone dropped and quieted and set a light hand on the Morgan's neck, feeling a raw hum of interest, excitement and blissful contentment thrumming through the horse."Though his metal has not been tested. I am unsure how his physicality and mentality will withstand when set against mountain trails we are both untested on, much less how he will compare with breeds that are more suited for the trails."

"He'll be fine Spock. Morgans are tough and he's bright eyed enough I wouldn't worry him any more than I would any other horses up there.' Jim jerked his head slightly towards the mountain. "Might get a few surprises out of him actually. A long climb and trail is a good way to figure each other out. Nothing but good can come of fresh air and good company."

Spock cocked and eyebrow up then looked away from the blonde as Suri on his cremello Quarter Horse, Mogget, jogged towards them. The eight year old Anear hybrid was wearing a pair of dark sunglasses to protect his poor eyesight and a children's sized Stetson pulled low over his dark hair, attenna and ears. He was dressed in a pale blue and black flannel and jeans over his small work boots, fitted carefully into the stirrup of the children's saddle he straddled.

"Hi Uncle Jim! Spock!" He chirped as he steered Mogget to bound passed Woyuske and Esthul'kov into a open part of the yard and quickly cued the cremello to drop his head and tuck his rear and performed several light footed spins and side steps, reverses and hairpin turns.

Jim sighed and twitched to catch Spock's eye, the silver ring in his cerulean eyes deepening and thickening rapidly. "He's showing off to you you know."

"I see." The hybrid Vulcan responded. "His performance is impressive."

"You catch that boy!" Jim barked at Suri and the youngling tried to look nonchalant about his sudden puff of pride and blush.

"Dunno what yer talkin' 'bout Uncle Jim." The boy tilted his head up and quickly trotted off with Mogget switching his white tail behind him.

Jim whistled low. "Spock you are quite the homewrecker."

The hybrid's eyebrow hit his hairline. "Pardon?"

"Got half the ranch twitterpainted over ya, is what he's talkin' 'bout."

Jim and Spock twisted around as McCoy and Joanna approached. The latter perched and seated tightly into a children's saddle much like Suri's, straddle across the blue roan Appaloosa cowpony, Rockhound. The Appaloosa strolled smoothly and casually under the child's second though of weight and seemed content to let Joanna tug on his reins and squeeze his sides to go in lazy loops, trailing far slower after Suri on Mogget and when she arrived on Toweya and her bay roan mare Brontosaurus as they spun and bounded trotted and side lunged at each other. Joanna seemed determined to join in the mounted rough play but Rockhound far to content to be a sleepy babysitter to work up into anymore more than a quick walk.

McCoy rode with more confidence than Spock expected, he seemed natural and at ease in the saddle and mounted lightly on one of Cody's favorite horses, a large strawberry roan Appaloosa mare with a mottled face and tall white socks on all four feet, her blanket pattern sporting large, eggs shaped spots with halos of color around each. The mare's name was Rosewood and while Jim expressed she was difficult to work with she was a championship titled in barrel racing, a sport that Cody did not compete in totally actively but she had an affection for the difficult and stubborn mare that Jim could be quoted as 'sinful but bit near Blackbird level'.

By Rosewood's calm and collected behavior under McCoy's hand either Rosewood was only difficult for Jim or that the mare herself preferred a gruff and heavy hand as opposed to the blonde's feather light touch. The strawberry roan Appaloosa stepped daintily and lightly around to Spock's other side and when she rebelliously stood a few steps over and away from the Morgan and hybrid a grumble from the doctor and a touch of his heel urged the mare to side step over several paces until she was near flush with Esthul'kov's side, her head swung away and up from the Morgan's friendly stretched neck and head.

" 'Twitterpainted' Doctor?" Spock inquired.

"Head over heels. Half the damn place has got a boner for ya, horses and Pups included." The Doctor grumbled, heavily patting Rosewood's neck.

Spock looks towards Jim, an eyebrow cocked and head tilted.

The blonde shrugged and smirked slightly. "It's true. Everyone's got a little bit of a crush on you."

"I do not fully comprehend the reasoning behind what you have stated and observed as unwarranted romantic intentions. Harmless as they may be."

He looked at Jim for conformation and the blonde nodded assuringly.

"It's because yer the shiny new toy in the box, Spock." McCoy snorted. "The novelty will wear off soon enough."

"Sound a little bitter over there, Bones." Jim observed with a smirk. McCoy snarled at him before spinning Rosewood suddenly away and taking off at the sharp trot towards the stable barn. When Spock followed his movement he saw most of the Chicalato clan mounted and chattering to each other idly.

Cody was the only one absent, obviously having made sure everyone was secure and mounted before she herself saddled.

Toweya, Suri, Joanna and the Twins were chasing other whooping from time to time and yelling at each other from Brontosaurus, Mogget, Rockhound, Tick and Tock backs. Creek is lighted in a dark leather saddle on his tobiano Paint mare, Digger, a mellow mare that was trained thoroughly in 'everything' as Jim would say. Cikala on a black, bald faced mare named Witch that had an ill temper to match her name and Spock was often warned away, that Witch would eat him alive. Tessa mounted on a small bay gelding, Sho Ba, one of Cody's older cow ponies or a mutt bloodline.

Casper sat high on a towering red chestnut stud name Firehouse that the eldest male of the Brotherhood had bought as a gift to himself for getting through firefighter training and hire by a department before he'd even graduated. Marie, with Matoha bundled up in the saddle seat before her was mounted on a petite dappled grey, elder gelding, Smoke Signals, that was long retired from the rodeo circuit where he had been a fair roping horse but nothing of Jeepers Creepers caliber.

Cokata was mounted up on a large bay Paint mare that for markings only sported for tall while socks, a large white patch over her rump and a white tail, the mare, Painted Lady, was not a competition horse though she had the training and for the most part went unridden and untested but her fine and easy temper and smooth gate was nearly designed for handicapped riders and had come from a therapy horse circle to Cody's possession within a week of Cokata being shot down. Soli was a nervous rider by personal admittance and had been placed on one of the calmest babysitters that Cody owned, a tri-colored overo Paint mare named Chambeau that more than once Spock himself had seated and found the mare and easy builder of confidence.

McCoy and Rosewood trotted out of sight into the shadow of the stable barn and for a long movement nothing all was quiet then the shadow cast from the stable barn breaks, the doctor and the strawberry roan Appaloosa trot out at the side of Cody, mounted high on the tall, mixed blood Honeycatcher, the imported Australian Stock and Brumby crossed horse with a pale gold fur, pink nose and caramel colored eyes that told of his slight albinism.

The Chicalato clan and their mounts come to attention, ears flicked and nostrils quivering in soft, low nickers and whinnies, watching Cody as if she was some kind of deity making her way across a temple. McCoy seems to actually straighten himself up a bit, riding in the chosen spot at Cody's side. A place that was once occupied by her husband, Misha and more often by Jim.

Cody seemed to go on without acknowledging most of them, flicking her eyes to catch Jim's and give a slight jerk of her head before urging the Brumby cross into a quick trot towards the nearest gate into the large pasture. McCoy on her heels and after her the rest of the Chicalato clan, Jim and Spock all fall into line, pairing off casually and chattering nosily as they follow Cody out into the open pasture as Jim and Spock brought up the rear at an idle walk. The pace of Woyuske and Esthul'kov matching smoothly over the sloped earth. Spock paused, drawing the Morgan up to wait as Jim and the buckskin Kiger side stepped and easily pulled the gate closed and looped the chain over the catch, locking it from the saddle.

When Jim looked up for a split second his face twisted in surprise at the sight of Spock waiting while the rest of the clan had moved on up the slope and started towards the mountain. But the surprise melted away to a slight grin and when he came even with Spock Woyuske and Eshtul'kov set off at the same smooth pace they had carried across the yard and lagged lazily behind the main group. Looking a head they could easily see Cody and McCoy matching their own mounts' paces at the lead of their group. One of McCoy's hands lifted and signing raggedly to the deaf rancher who had her head dipped towards him and seemed as if she was trying her hardest to listen and hear him.

"Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"May I speak on a personal observation of mutual friendships?"

The blonde quirked an eyebrow at the hybrid but gave a silent jerk of his head for Spock to continue.

"I overheard Joanna making an observation concerning the relationship between her father and Cody. It is one I myself have made and I am sure you as well as other members of the family. That they are, on some level, equally interested in a romantic relationship are they not?"

"Bones' been pining for Cody for about three years now." Jim assured lightly, taking his eyes off Spock as they dropped down the slope of the pasture and waded into the shallow creek that ran through the pasture. Esthul'kov paused and stood still n the middle of the running water, with one ear flicked back at the hybrid. When Spock remained relaxed and calm in the saddle the bay Morgan started to paw playfully at the rolling water. It splashed up to Spock's boots and edges of his jeans. The water was not large enough nor deep enough to worry Spock and if the bay Morgan truly enjoyed water Spock would not deny him the simple exercise. It cause him no personal discomfort. Perhaps in the future Spock would test the metal between himself and the gelding and allow Eshtul'kov to swim him away for a bit.

But the concept was still far off in the future.

It was Woyuske that grew tired of waiting on the bay and nickered loudly and harshly enough that the gelding jerked his head up and stiffened, blinking at the buckskin Kiger for a long moment before, almost sheepishly, climbing the bank to the older horse's side and fell quietly back into step with the Kiger. Jim smiled and reached across to lightly stroke his fingers over the bay's ear.

"Don't worry Kov. He's just a no nonsense guy. It's not you."

The bay snorted and shook his head. Spock's own hand dropped to the gelding's shoulder and he fingered the fur there lightly as he called up their previous conversation.

"He has born affections for Cody for three years?"

"He only admits to three years. Might be longer but it gets a little iffy because he really only met Cody because I got him to take Misha and Colt's case." Jim looked at Spock and seemed to ask not to be forced to continue the conversation in that direction.

Spock dipped his head and veered away from the loss and happenstance.

"Am I correct in assuming that Cody bears similar affections? Beyond those that she expressed for her siblings, you or myself."

"You'd be right." Jim cocked an eyebrow up. "Why the interest all the sudden, Spock? Did one of them say something to you?"

Spock shook his head once resolutely and leaned forwards in his saddle when the slope deepened slightly and along the rutted out fence they started to climb upwards. "I am merely curious. If their emotional states and intentions are similar why they do not logically move forwards into a romantic situation within understandable parameters."

"Oh…" Jim worked his jaw for a minute before speaking. "… they're scared."

And eyebrow titled up towards his hairline. "Explain."

"Well Spock… neither of them has really had the best track record with relationships. I was there through most of Cody's dating years which were nil because even though she's brilliant and awesome and stuff nobody wanted to get tangled up with a deaf freak who's dad was the local sheriff. And Bones doesn't talk about it much but from what he sad he struck out a lot too. I figure it's was his shining personality and him being scary smart. And the one time that each of them made the big jump and got married it ended in tragedy. Bones has to go to court and fight just to see his own daughter and Misha and Colt…" Jim shook his head slightly. "… can you blame them for being a little afraid to go on? With their track records? What they have is not perfect and Hell it probably makes them miserable if anything but if neither of them makes a move and gets involved then there's no way they can get hurt or hurt each other."

Spock mulled the idea for a moment before commenting, "While it does not make entire sense it is understandable, but, too speak without experience in such a situation, if they are experiencing strain and unhappiness with their present arrangement and expect to experience it at a later date should they become involved, would it not be logical then to engage in the relationship and for a time experience their compatibility and company if the end result would only be the same as if they did not act at all, with the possible chance that such beliefs of emotional injury and failure may prove false?"

Jim smirked sadly. "That just too logical for them, Spock."

The hybrid blinked but nodded slightly in understanding and said nothing more on the subject, turning his attention outwards instead and watched as the land shifted, they were not yet passed the point that Spock had wandered himself, though it looked very different now that he was watching it and from the back of the bay Morgan. It was quiet, the tall grass licking at their hocks and heels. There was a peace here, a easiness that any knots lingering under Spock's ribs relaxed and unwound. Eshtul'kov's heart drummed against his thighs and knees and if he wished to he could reach out and lay his hand on Jim or Woyuske. The horse moved in relaxed tandem, their heights close enough that even in this slight climb their paces matched fairly well. Though Jim probably kew as well as Spock did that that other side of the wolf proof fence was lined with track and scent of prowling predators there was no fear or tension of any kind of danger other than falling from a horse. Which in an of itself was unlikely.

So when Woyuske flicked an ear back and made a low noise in his throat, Spock and Jim instantly twisted in their saddles to look back, tense enough that it made the two horses stall in their steps and go stiff under them. Jim smiled and stifled a laugh before calling down the mountain at the shapes cutting through the grass towards them. As he relaxed so did the horses and Spock.

"Well? C'mon!"

Down the slope a bit the pack of dogs picked up speed until they were galloping and bounding through the grass with Nemo A534 in the lead. The one eyed German Shepherd slowed to a trot and stopped, panting, next to Jim and the buckskin Kiger. The rest of the pack of dogs charged passed, rushing up the slope towards the line of Chicalato clan well ahead of them. The collie, two Australian Shepherd, Rottweiler and Whelsh Corgi galloped after the dark form of Wagi the German Shepherd that hated Spock at their lead.

The albino German Shepherd Canteska was not in sight. It was likely that the elderly dog had remained behind.

"Hey Nemo." Jim smiled down at the massive dog and leaned in the saddle, reached and just touched the dog's ears lightly. Nemo A534 twisted to look up and licked at Jim's fingers. "Want a ride, big guy?"

Woyuske snorted but Nemo A534 barked happily and flicked his tail before backing up a few steps and braced for a long moment before bounding forwards and making a massive leap towards the saddle and rump of the Kiger behind Jim. For the horse's credit Woyuske didn't move, tensed and joints locked while Nemo A534 scrambled a bit and Jim twisted to haul him up until the dog was draped across the back of the saddle skirt behind the seat's cantle and over Woyuske's rump. The dog looked quite at peace in his odd perch. And while Woyuske seemed less than thrilled about the arrangement the Kiger made no move to harm or shake off the dog and when Jim urged them back into movement the horse seemed to forget entirely about Nemo A534.

The Kiger and Morgan fell back into step, climbing the slope a little faster. The light sounds of the other riders ahead of them drifting back on the wind, giving them an easy point of reference, a place to head towards. It wasn't an issue that the pair of Starfleet officers lagged behind. The Brotherhood and McCoy were well practiced in riding and for that matter handling emergency situations, and Spock was confident that should some kind of emergency arise the noise would be enough to warn them into catching up and if not that someone would be sent back for them. But for the moment and all intents ad purposes they were alone with the horses and dog on the mountain, steadily climbing higher towards the tree line above them on the mountain.

The air that had been still down in the yard was moving gently, swaying the long grass and rustling the leaves of the trees above them. It was cool enough it made Spock shiver deep in his core and press a little closer into his layered clothes and the corduroy and synthetic fleece jacket and the warmth of the living animal that bore his weight easily up the slope.

There was a bite in the cool air, a clean fresh scent of damp earth and foliage. A crisp snap of pine and thick natural sugar seeping from the high altitude trees. There was the strange, hard edged scent of what Spock assumed could only be the mountain itself tangled with the faint, drifting smells of animals unseen. It reminded Spock of the heated air that used to wash over him on the rare breeze across the deserts of his lost home planet. There was nothing similar in the cool, fresh wind that flowed down from the peaks and the hot breeze that would come across the flat plains but it sent a light thrill through the hybrid that perked his attention and relaxed him. As they climbed the tall grass started to shorten a bit as the tree line drew closer, Spock glanced down towards the slightly rocky earth under Esthul'kov's hooves as the horse climbed and peddles skidded away under the pressure of the thousand pound animal. Then his attention turned upwards towards the conifers and leafy trees a head, some of them already turning color rapidly in the cooler climate of the mountain and mottling yellow and orange, brown and red in the deep green. The colors were more familiar in nature to Spock. It was the green that he was not used to but now that the colors were turning Spock found it odd that the green was leaving the mountain.

The change would be even stranger in another few weeks when Jim warned him that the thick layer of wet white snow would settle from the peak to the creek cut valleys below. Jim told Spock how quiet it was, how still it became when the snows set in and the largest predators on the mountain went into hibernation and the large hay burners were bolder. The thought of heavy snow was a strange one. Spock had been trained, as any other member of Starfleet, to operate and perform at his highest in any and all conditions. This included simulations and hands on training in the winter in north California where the mountains were heavy with ice and snow themselves. Spock knew how to handle himself in poor and extreme weather conditions but he had always been dropped into them pre-existing. He had never been present through the change and alteration of one season to the next. He had never actually seen a 'first snow'. The notion was an intriguing one.

As was proposed the so called 'reindeer games' that the rest of the Brotherhood mentioned in passing when the anticipated first snow was mentioned at a meal a few days prior. They'd all looked to Cody who made no mention or comment on the matter but Jim assured Cody knew when the snow was coming. And it was fairly soon. Jim and Spock and Cody had all stood for a full five minutes that morning and looked at the grass in the yard.

It has frosted during the night and there was a thin layer of fine ice built up all over everything. It had melted off fairly quickly as the sun rose, despite the low temperature.

It was a phenomenon that Spock had never experienced himself before and with a subtle mixture of fascination and anxiety Spock waited for the first snow and the possibly violent climate shift that would come with it.

Spock turned his attention back outwards as they reached the tree line and Jim and Woyuske dropped back suddenly to fall into line directly behind Spock and Esthul'kov. The hybrid twisted in his saddle to look back. "Jim?"

"To narrow to go abreast Spock." The blonde assured and dipped his head towards the earth. Spock looked down and cut through the mountain trees was a narrow trail of packed dirt, over shadowed by the bowed leaves of the underbrush and low growth, weaving in and out around thick and thin tree trunks rooted deeply in the earth or torn out of the ground and lay rotting on the woodland floor. Spock opened and turned his senses outwards, listening intently and watching the world around him shift and pull and twist. Watched it breath, rising and falling like the torso of some living creature. The sounds of the Chicalato clan a head muffled to a point that if Spock turned his attention well away it seemed as if he and Jim were alone on the trail, working their solitary but companionable way upwards towards the summit. The rhythm of their climb set to the drum of horses' hooves and hearts and they heavier their own weight and their riders upwards.

The air, in the shadows of the trees, grew cooler and Spock shivered slightly, tucking himself closer into his clothing and hunkering slightly towards the bay Morgan below him.

"Doing alright Spock?" Jim called gently up to him. Clearly the movement had been more pronounced than Spock had meant for it to be.

"I am well." Spock assured and as if to prove his point gently urged Esthul'kov to climb slightly faster. Jim made a soft noise of discontent and urged Woyuske into a half trot until the horse was near walking on the bay Morgan's heels, the Kiger's head thrown over Esthul'kov's rump.

"Spock. You tell me when it starts getting to cold for you. You got it?"

It's a tone that Spock imagines listening coming from Cody had she been able to speak. A tone that was beyond argument and any kind of reasoning be it logical or illogical. There was no room for falsevities or sidestepping the issue.

"Very well." Spock twitched his head slightly to cast a glance back at Jim before the blonde backed Woyuske off well a head of the moment when Esthul'kov lost his patience with the crowding and would kick the Kiger despite being mounted and it not being the buckskin mustang's own doing.

Jim fell back to a more respectful distance behind Esthul'kov and Spock lightened up, letting the Morgan slow a bit until his pace was more relaxed in the climb. The quiet settled back in and the muffled sounds of the Chicalato clan only just reached them, bouncing off tree trunks and the earth. It's the only thing that reminds Spock he is not alone with Jim in the mountains.

The air grew a little thinner and it relaxed Spock a bit. His home planet of Vulcan had had a thinner finer atmosphere than Terra. If it were not for the cooler temperature Spock would have felt more physically comfortable than he had in the last few years. It perked him up and that in turn cued Esthul'kov into a more alert state. The bay Morgan hummed, wickering softly as he pricked his ears and started sucking air strongly. Spock urged the bay into a quicker pace. The Morgan tossed his head and flipped his tail before picking up his heels in a high trot.

It was not enough and a light press of his knees and the Morgan broke into a full lope, dropping his head and charging up the slope with deep heaves of his chest and breath.

Behind them Spock faintly registered the Kiger giving a snort and whinny then the sound of hoof beats doubled as Jim urged Woyuske into his own lope and crashed up the side of the mountain after them. The buckskin bent and swayed around trees, a few yards behind Spock and Esthul'kov in a light game of pursuit. The flash of gold and pale blue hot on their heels. Spock glanced sideways as they cut back and for across the trail as they pushed from a lope into a checked and collected gallop. A bubble formed in Spock chest, tight between his lungs it bobbed and rolled, making him feel near buoyant in his seat on the Morgan's back. When Jim and Woyuske kicked up their speed Esthul'kov did the same with light urging or twisted and bent his large frame around trees and undergrowth and then the trees thinned a bit around the large rockwork that lay staggered around them, evading the Kiger and Jim resolutely. Actually kicking up his heels once or twice when they got to close in the game.

They were playing.

It sent a flush through him that made Spock shiver and bared down in the saddle a bit and urged Esthul'kov a bit faster.

The trees broke entirely and a head of them the shambling line of horses and family ambling along the ridge but Spock turned downwards, the earth sloping and curving in a long grass and rocky terrain of a open mountain prairie. The open space a head of them flooded their veins and Spock and the Morgan broke into a full gallop, charging in a long curve along the face of the peak. Behind him the sounds of the Chicalato clan cheering and calling down at him echoed but where drowned out by the thunder of Woyuske's hooves, the Kiger's steps catching and holding in a natural way on the mountain side in ways that the Morgan never would be able too. The other horse picking up speed and closing tightly on Spock and bay gelding but never quiet catching them, either the older horse simply did not have the speed to truly close the gap or Jim was holding him back in a way that left enough of a gap for the chase to continue.

As much as he would have had it continue Spock knew that Esthul'kov could not hold his speed or wind the way that the Kiger could. Not with the thin air and high land. Already it sounded as if the Morgan was starting to tire. The hybrid had three methods to choose. Either check the ride and bring Esthul'kov down, give a last sprint or go out with a flair before cutting Esthul'kov back and drop to a walk to recover.

As if sensing the hybrid's hesitation the gelding tugged at the bit for a moment and let out a low whinny. Spock bent towards the Morgan's ear and spoke into it, urging the horse forwards.

"_Shar-tor."_ Spock hummed to the pricked ear.

Esthul'kov snorted, shaking his head, tucking his chin into his chest. The Morgan collected his hooves under him and doubled his stride. Shortening and tightening their breath until they were flying over the earth, hooves didn't even seem to strike the ground. A blue of gold and blue came hard along side them, Jim and Woyuske falling into perfect step with the darker pair and they raced up the slope towards a tumbled of whole and broken boulders. The two horses pressed each other, Jim and Spock watching each other from the edge of their sight as they cut around a massive boulder.

Both horses skidded, head's throwing up and nostrils flared as they squealed, tripping over their own hooves as they scrambled to get back and away from the startled animal on the other side of the boulder. A thick, musky animal scent slammed into Spock and flipped his stomach, his hands slipped on the reins and barley snagged on the horn to keep from tumbling entirely off the Morgan's back.

The dark bulk of the heavier animal scrambled back, just as startled by the sudden appearance of the two horses. It blinked at them through small, brown eyes, tuff like rounded ears cocked forwards over a massive rounded head. Its thick, heavy body perched on four massive legs and large flat paws edged in large curved claws.

It blinked at them. Before it's rounded ears pinned and the long muzzle crinkled, thick lips curling back from yellowed, curved teeth.

"_Mato!"_ Jim barked at the top of his lungs as he yanked Woyuske back and sharply around, the Kiger yanking brutally back on the bit but danced back down the slope. He kicked viciously at the animal. "Grizzly!"

The massive grizzly staggered back a step at the kick before stalking towards Spock as the hybrid tried to get Esthul'kov back under control, fighting both their instincts to fight and run. The Morgan's hooves skidding in his panic and the threat of a spill rearing up at them rapidly as the bear lumbered another step forwards before it's bulk reared back onto hind paws.

"Spock!" Jim barked in terror, his voice drowned out when the grizzly pinned his ears flat into his massive rounded skull, jaws flung open and bellowed. It's voice drumming and rattling in its chest and throat in the roar.

The sound stopped the hybrid and Morgan's hearts. Spock mind whirled back to a blistering hot day in a cave, an animal just as large and deadly bellowing at him from the dark. Esthul'kov reared up, wailing, hooves slipping.

Jim's teeth grit and his head dropped at the same time Woyuske's did, he gave over to the Kiger's feral instinct and with a light pressure of his heel and hand the barely tamed mustang planted his hooves into the earth and catapulted off the ground, launching at the grizzly with a battle cry that chilled Spock's burning blood in an instant.

The bear's head whirled towards the buckskin and blonde as the Kiger and Jim charged at him. The bear swung a massive paw up and back as Woyuske spun expertly on his heels and twisted his shoulder into the grizzly's bulk. The bear snarled in surprise and the paw going wild as its bulk tipped and rocked under the impact. Jim actually reaching up with his hands and shoving against the grizzly's ribs as Woyuske nimbly danced back out of the way as the bear tumbled backwards. The Kiger whirled and kicked viciously, both rear hooves catching the bear on the underside of it's jaws. There was a crackle of bone and a enamel. A small burst of blood ballooned and popped at the edge of the bear's lips.

"Run!" Jim barked as Woyuske nearly collided with Esthu;'kov, but the near impact was enough to snap the younger horse out of his panic. The bay whirled on his barely set hooves, glued himself to the Kiger's flank and sprinted back down the slope, Spock caught the reins in one hand and the horn in the other and dared not look back as they charged down the suddenly dangerously rocky terrain and grass. Spock was dimly aware of the pair of horse and rider shapes charging up towards them, one the pale outline of Honeycatcher and Cody, the other the pitch black form of Witch and Creek. Their blood thundered and pounded in their ears and throats, hearts hammering frighteningly fast in Spock's side and Dean's chest. Creating a terrifying beat and rhythm that Spock could nearly feel it cutting into his life force.

Cody seemed to sit back in saddle and pulled up as Jim, Woyuske, Spock and Esthul'kov closed the space between them. The deaf rancher hoisted an antique rifle to her shoulder, aimed up the slope behind them and fired a shot.

The sound was a crack of thunder and amplified a thousand times by the mountains. Spock felt one of his ear drums pop loudly but he was more concerned with staying seated when the gunshot tore through the bay gelding's already shredded nerves and Esthul'kov side stepped and reared back at the noise. Jim instantly yanking the Kiger around and reached dangerously far, catching the reins just under Esthul'kov's chin, tugging the Morgan down and pulling him around and circling, tightening the spin until the Morgan was forced to keep his hooves down and his outward side curved and pressed into Woyuske's side, trapping Spock and Jim's legs between the two horses ribs. They were jostled and ruffled, terror and instinct making their hearts and blood pound erratically.

Spock felt one of Jim's hands drop to the back of his neck, and the stillness in it sent a shock of realization through the hybrid that he was shaking. Hard and independent of the violent tremors racking through Esthul'kov.

Jim's fingers tightened to a point that the hybrid knew would have been painful for another human. The Morgan and Kiger slowed until the tight circle gave way and the four of them stood still, each shivering violently and bent towards one another as if to lean their weight on the other. The two horses were lathered in sweat and kicked up dirt. A thick, offensive scent clung to Jim and Woyuske where they had impacted with the grizzly but Spock and Esthul'kov shoved passed it and bent towards the paler pair. Their skins twitching and shivering harshly under their sweated out skin. Their breathing slowly evened out and all four of them nearly matched perfectly in the rhythm. Their hearts doing the same.

Esthul'kov gave a single, low snort and whine. A noise that Jim often called 'letting the butterflies out'. The bay Morgan dropped his head, ears swaying and tremors rippling through him. The Kiger dropped his own nose until their nostrils were nearly pressed together and they sucked and passed breath between them, the bay Morgan feeding off the calmer and more experienced Kiger. The Kiger knew the fear and trauma that came from such a close call. The buckskin overo mustang had fought predators in the wild long before he came under Jim's hand. While the Kiger might not see Esthul'kov as a true member of his herd the mustang recognized brotherhood. Esthul'kov needed his help and Woyuske was not going to deny him the security of a friendly and calming presence. Even if it had to be his own. It was not in the Kiger's nature to be nurturing, he would never retire on Native Sky to be a babysitter or a lesson pony.

But in that moment Woyuske hummed and nickered softly to the Morgan, assuring him, soothing the other horse and when Cody set off a second round from the rifle and the Morgan jerked as he himself had been shot the Kiger gave Esthul'kov a sharp nip on the jaw for himself and the bay calmed a bit after a soft snort and groan.

Aboard the two horses Spock was receiving a similar treatment. The hybrid was half tugged out of his own saddle as Jim seemed to be trying desperately to pull him closer, the blonde's head dipped as he spoke quietly and rapidly into a delicately pointed ear. Soothing nonsense and slowly the shaking that rattled through Spock's bones started to settle and smooth. His own muscles contracting in a single spasm when the second shot went off. Jim's grip on the back of his neck tightened just slightly and the blonde bent until his forehead was pressed into Spock's temple. Through the small contact Spock's raw nerves were flushed with emotional concern and attention. There was a flood of fear and irrational anger welling as an undertone, the fear far deeper than the anger. But it was washed out and dulled with a thick layer of relief and shivering, untamable joy. It thrummed and churned through the small contact and it drove straight to Spock's core, wrapped around the fine and delicate thread of connection between them and poured into the link, flooding it until it bloomed and churned against the back side of Spock's ribs and lungs. It burned and the cold loosened from around his spine and through his core until the hybrid relaxed and the warmth settled low in his frame, soothing him in and out until the shaking had fallen away and his sat still and near limp in the saddle. The memories from the last few moments fairly blurred and slightly harsh where they were sharp. Still so fresh and harsh that they burned at the edges of his mind. And not only his.

Jim was rattled. The fear he was fighting had at some point threatened to swallow him and was still lingering at the heavy edges of Jim's psyche and only just calming enough not to take him completely over.

Death had been very close and the shock of it, having been so fresh and brilliant. It sent and ache through Spock and possibly Jim and it took a moment for Spock to realize it was loss. The moment of play and joy between them broken. But the loss of it was soothed, eased by Jim's surging pulse of emotion. The blonde clearly, shaken clean to the core and far happier to allow the few moments of play be the loss than anything else.

**

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****A/N: Wow… a whole lot of nothing then BAM! Bear. Yeah. Didn't see that coming did you? **

**Lakota Translation:**

**Woyuske – absolution**

**Mato - bear**

**Vulcan Translation:**

**Shar-tor - run**


	18. Chapter 18

**I'm not even gonna say I'm sorry for how long it took to write and post this because in all honesty I'm not and I'm not gonna lie to you guys. Plus I'm just to friggin' tired. It's unfortunate that it took so long but necessary. I think you guys are aware that I am currently enrolled and participating in part time Police Academy here in KC and it is a very commanding and draining thing to go through. I'm in all honesty surprised when I have the time to work on this between home work, self training and training at school. I am in class over 40 hours in five days a week on top of 'daily life'. So I will continue to try and keep there chapters coming out as quickly as possible but it will honestly take time between postings. And while I am so glad that you guys are interested and in love and obsessed with this fic and I love comments and critiques and suggestions like I love a good nap I ask that you please please PLEASE have discretion on sending little notes asking/demanding/bribing me for updates. I'm working on them as fast as I can and I swear this fic HAS NOT and WILL NOT be abandoned. And in fact there is a multi-chapter sequel planned and several more one shots planned/in the works. So while I adore the attention and don't want to offend anyone and please keep sending me the love I'm just reminding you guys that I have horses and family and homework and other projects and Academy and I have it on good intelligence that I will be exhausted, sore and glassy eyed for the next five years. Bear with me.**

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**Summary: **_**He dropped his face to watch the reflection of light as it was swallowed up by the darkness of the water in the lake.**_

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**Lost Horse Creek, Montana**

"**When you are lonely, let me be your companion. When you are tired, let me carry the load. When you need to learn, let me teach you… after all, I am your horse."**

**-Unkown**

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**Chapter Eighteen: The Surfaces of Lakes Are Mirrors**

**_"By three methods we may learn wisdom: First, by reflection, which is noblest; Second, by imitation, which is easiest; and third by experience, which is bitterest."_**

**_- Confucius_**

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**Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness**

**Bitterroot Mountain Range, Rocky Mountains, Ravalli County, Montana**

**Stardate: 2260**

**October: 30**

**1435 Hours**

**…**

The Grizzly had had quite enough.

It was hard as it was on the mountain without horses and humans trying to trample you when you were reduced to gnawing lichen off boulders because of the lean times. And getting kicked was to be expected in the situation he supposed but the gunfire was too much.

Not only were they shooting at him but they were _following_ him _and_ shooting at him.

_And_ to top it off there were dogs. He could hear them barking and probably just getting on the chase.

The grizzly pinned his ears and doubled his lumbering gallop, trying to keep his jaw locked and still, quite sure he'd bitten through his own tongue and charged across the meadow up towards the ridge and dashed into the tree line where when he found the first heavy pine he hauled his massive frame up into it, climbing until the tree swayed under his weight but it was high enough that he could see the path he'd traveled.

He could see the dogs in a small scrambled pack at the heels of the dark horse and light horse that had chased him. They were well back and the Grizzly hummed to himself that they had given up the chase a fair bit ago.

He glared out at the figures as they retreated back along the curve of the ridge, thick lips twitching but his mouth hurting too much to fully growl.

He didn't care how lean the times were. No more lichen. And definitely no horses.

Ever.

**…**

"That was so COOL!"

"TOWEYA!"

The child snapped her jaw shut and pulled Brontosaurus up so quickly that the mare skidded a bit. The grin on her face dropped and she actually shrank back in her saddle. The harsh bite and tone in her father's voice far too rough for her to fathom testing or teasing.

Thought Toweya was who she was and Spock's sharp hearing picked up the slightest grumble that sounded like 'well it was'.

The hybrid glanced up towards her. Jim, Woyuske, Esthul'kov and himself still unmoved at the edge of the bowl of the meadow. The last of the tremors through him and the Morgan fading off.

Jim's hand had slid from the back of his neck to his shoulder and the blonde had sat up a bit in the saddle, but still leaned close enough that Spock did not feel the loss of his presence just yet. He was aware of McCoy hovering, clearly desperate to get into their space but plenty aware that it was unwise to intrude too quickly.

Besides, there was another person that had a higher authority and more right than McCoy did.

The whisper of the long grass was cut by the smooth and even walk of Honeycatcher, the cremello snorted softly and now that the excitement was over her lightly tugged a few blades of the grass to chew.

The bitter, burning scent of gun powder and oil drifted over the normal scent of sweet hay and honey that announced Cody's presence. Bounding a head of her the pack of dogs with Nemo A534 in the lead, the Garman Shepherd having bailed out from behind Jim when the blonde had engaged in the game with Spock. Spock felt Jim back off a bit more and the hybrid stifled a whine at the loss and sat still as Cody brought the Brumby Aussie stud up to them and stepped in close until her knee was pressed tightly against his between the sides of the two horses.

Spock dipped his head and tilted docilely towards Cody's hand when the petite ranched reached over and smoothed her hand through his hair, nails lightly digging into his scalp, pushing some of the longer strands back behind his ear, her thumb smoothing the swept point tip of his ear.

There was a very faint shiver in her hand, the only give that she was unsettled by the event at all. Spock chanced to look at her from the corner of his eye.

There was a pale edge to her normally tawny tanned face and throat and a hard, disbelieving edge to her grey eyes, as if she still wasn't sure about how the event had turned out. Her fingers smooth lightly over the link where his jaw met his throat, skating over the thick vein in his neck and his rapid thundering heart rate chattering against the pads of her fingers. Through the small contact concern and relief thundered and rattled into his system, all in the form of mental vibration. Spock actually felt the foundations of his mind shiver with the small earthquake of her attention.

Spock eyes closed tightly when she passed her fingers across them, smoothing his eye lashes into his cheeks, finger tips drumming gently over the bones in his face for a moment.

Then she slapped his sharply upside the head. Making Spock jerk and blink her in surprise and lift a hand to rub lightly at the place that her hand had made contact.

She gave him a look that very clearly said 'do that again and you won't have to worry about the bear killing you'.

Spock shrank away from her slightly and watched warily as Cody urged Honeycatcher around and away from the hybrid and the Morgan gelding around towards Jim, whose hand tightened its grip on Spock's bicep slightly when the deaf rancher slid up to him and he dropped his own head, getting the same light handed, gentle inspecting before receiving the same hard smack across his skull.

Jim muttered under his breath and grumbled a bit, scrubbing at the superficial injury and it wasn't until Cody and Honeycatcher side stepped and ambled away when McCoy fell on them both, his brief skim of Spock's health lasting literally moments as he found only the already receding symptoms of shock.

Jim was another story. His forearms and shoulder were deeply bruised from making contact with the bear and the way he winced when McCoy rotated his shoulder suggested a possibly pinched nerve.

Jim of course protested that he was fine and even started making an argument that he's suffered worse and ridden harder afterwards in many a rodeo and horseshow.

Spock's attention was dragged away when Esthul'kov nickered as Suri and Mogget gingerly approached him.

The bay gelding seemed to have already shaken off the event and was rapidly regaining his previously sunny attitude and friendly disposition.

"Spock are ya okay?" The Anear hybrid child asked worriedly, his eyes behind the sunglasses wide and watery, he's not taken the surprise of the grizzly encounter as well as his cousin Toweya had.

"Only a little unsettled, Suri." Spock ensured gently and loosened the reins enough that Esthul'kov took the liberty of side steeping away from Woyuske and towards Mogget, the cremello Quarter Horse twitched an ear towards the Morgan but did nothing other than tug a few strands of long high meadow grass into his teeth and ground them away.

After a moment Esthul'kov mimicked the other horse and quickly gathered a large mouthful of mountain wild grass and chewed it noisily around his bit.

Mogget flicked an ear at the younger horse and snorted before ignoring the Morgan all together.

"I assure you that I am fine."

Suri nodded jerkily at Spock's words but still seemed to lack a belief of them, he looked around nervously, as if expecting the grizzly to come charging down on them at any second. Spock reached out and lighted a hand on the slim shoulder and gave a slight shake.

"I am whole, Suri." Spock assured and lifted his hand before the boy's face and twisted and turned it, twitching his fingers and curving his palm.

Why it was supposed to be proof that he was alive and undamaged was lost but it seemed more than effective and got the point across. Suri relaxed with a deep exhale and smiled slightly up at Spock before nodding in agreement and tentatively reaching up and tugging on the edge of Spock's sleeve before letting go and dropping a hand to toy with Mogget's mane.

Casper slid up to them on Firehouse. The massive red chestnut chawing at his bit impatiently and twitching muscles under his skin as being contained.

The firefighter cast Spock a light smile before turning his attention towards Suri.

"He good Suri? Gave him a once over?" There was more than a note of amusement in the eldest male Chicalato's voice.

Suri straightened up a bit. "Yessir."

"Good man, Suri." Casper rumbled and winking at Spock he and the red stud moved on to exchanged a few signs with Cody who was now content to stand off as the rest of her clan descended the down from the rim of the meadow bowl down to where Spock and Jim had stopped running back from the bear.

Cikala was already there, twisting his hands and fingers in signs so rapidly that Spock was having trouble reading them and had to turn his attention towards Soli when the Anear female eased her mount down towards him, looking more shaken and nervous than any of the others, dark glasses fit snuggly over her weak eyes.

"Spock you are well?" She asked in a thick accent and it took Spock a long moment to remember the last time that Soli had spoken to him directly.

"I am indeed. Your son can attest to that?" Spock directed the cock of his head and eyebrow up towards the child and Suri nodded sharply.

"He's fine Ma." The Anear hybrid child scoffed. "It was just a bear."

Obviously slightly embarrassed Suri swung Mogget around and trotted away towards his father where Cokata was watching from the sidelines as McCoy and Jim argued.

"Oh. 'Just' a bear. No worries then." Soli smiled tiredly.

Spock felt the edge of his lips tip up in return as he lifted a hand to scrub at his nose. Esthul'kov seemed to have regained some of his spirit and more of his calm and stretched out towards the tri colored Paint mare that Soli was seated on, Chambeau. The mare puffed her own breath quietly into the Morgan geldings and lightly nipped his cheek, making the bay gelding jerk and snort but it did not stop him from stretching back out again.

"You seem very at ease with horses, Spock." Soli said quietly. "Even in the wake of danger."

Spock nodded but said nothing. He'd grown used to silence, to keeping words tightly bound within as they were used so little here as it was.

Being mated to a Chicalato for a little over a decade herself, Soli was used to the silences herself and carried on speaking quietly to Spock despite his unspoken response.

"I'm afraid I'll never be so confident. Though Chambeau has always taken care of me when I've ridden. I'm not very fond of the sport."

Spock though to himself that clearly she was not as he knew no one that owned or handled horses in Cody's social ring that referred to riding as a sport unless it was a specific event type discipline.

"Much of my family living here on Terra or on our home world find me very strange for making the attempt at all. And most of them do not know how to understand Suri's passion or talent for it. They think he is very odd. And discourage it all together. I believe it's cause part of his shy attitude and fear of competing."

Spock stifled a small noise of disapproval before speaking quietly and calmly.

"Sooner than not Lady Soli the horse culture will be universal to an extent that Suri could easily be recognized among his peers and family as a champion and expert."

Somewhat to Spock's surprise the female Anear smiled brightly. "You are a good influence to have in the family Spock."

The hybrid cocked an eyebrow but dipped his head formally in thanks. "You are very gracious, Lady Soli."

She dipped her own head in return but before she could speak Jim and Woyuske skidded up in a huff. Making Esthul'kov jump a step to the side.

"Can you friggin' believe this? Tessa wants to go back down to the ranch!" Jim snapped sharply but quietly, clearly indigent.

Spock lifted an eyebrow and glanced over his shoulder to where Tessa, Cikala's wife was signing awkwardly to Cody, Casper and her husband. She was slower and more broken in technique and made it far easier to read her words. She was making some kind of argument about dangerous and predators and broken necks and the children.

"It was not our intention to ride back after the incident?" Spock asked carefully, hoping not to unbalance Jim's clearly tilted mood.

"Spock, no one's even bleeding." Jim huffed a breath up over his brown and making the edges of his lengthening hair ruffle. "And we're only a few miles from the lake as is. That 'incident' is over, now is just a good horror story for grandkids someday."

Soli leaned towards Jim over Esthul'kov's neck, speaking almost conspiratorially. "Tessa's just trying to make trouble. She was never too keen about coming to the ranch anyway."

"She never wants to come to the ranch." Jim snarled back. "And when she comes all she does is moan about Chicago and missing 'civilization'."

Spock looked between the two of them. "Lake?" He asked quietly.

Jim glanced at him before speaking absently. "Lake Como up towards the peak. That's where we are heading today."

"Were." Soli hummed, clearly more relaxed with Jim than she was Spock and more than happy to gossip and complain a bit about their non-blood relative. "'Were' if Tessa has anything to say about it."

"I'm sick of her." Jim growled. "Did you hear about what she did to Toweya? Sent her to a psychologist."

Soli blinked in surprise. "She never mentioned it."

Jim nodded sharply. "The Coyote's pissed over it but she's got him so tight by the friggin' gonads I'm surprised he's not neutered."

Soli nodded grimly. "I'm starting to think that Cikala's about as sick of her as we are."

Spock heisted before he dared to speak. "Is she often anti-social towards the rest of the clan and raise disturbance when participating in social and group events?"

"Yes." Jim sounded disgusted. "All I know is that if she keeps pushing and Cikala doesn't do something about it Cody's going to snap pretty soon. She's getting close right now."

Jim jerked his head back to where as Tessa continued to sign Cody became stiffer and tighter in the saddle and perched on Honeycatcher. Next to her Cikala was looking as mortified as the Chicago Narcotics officer could be and Casper was teetering towards appalled or something like it.

It made sense as it seemed the without hesitation Tessa was quite rapidly berating Cody as an unfit parent or guardian and that by continuing the ride she was endangering the children and that in all Cody was thoughtless.

Even Spock flinched and had to bury an unhappy growl in his throat at the accusation. He's felt the pain Jim has suffered at the death of Cody's mate Misha and their son Colt. If Jim's pain, as an 'uncle' of sorts, had been so sharp and painful after five years how painful was Cody's for the loss.

Tessa was far out of bounds.

"Cody's going to either kill her or boot her clean out of the family if she doesn't shut up." Jim hummed matter of factly. "And half the time I think that as long as we keep Toweya that Cikala wouldn't be all that broken up about it."

Spock blinked but kept his quiet.

He knew very well that the Chicalato clan was far from perfect, they had their grudges and complaints and more than enough quarrels between them to do a Klingon clan proud.

They were wholly and entirely human.

But how human they were was not entirely clear until this aspect had reared up right before Spock.

It was both unsettling and soothing in a way.

Though the come about of it was troubling.

He would not like to see the Chicalato clan torn apart but it seemed that the whole of it was beyond his power.

Especially with the way that Cody's eyes were hardening and sharpening to a point that even Honeycatcher was starting to shift nervously in place.

Jim paled suddenly.

"Oh God she really is going to kill her." He whirled Woyuske around on the Kiger's heels and trotted quickly over. The instant he was close Cody, Casper and Cikala's attention snapped to him and Jim made a suggestive jerk of his head to the side and Cody, without glancing at Tessa, trotted after him to a bit of distance. The two horses matching strides as they jounced down the slope a bit and Jim seemed to work his magic and charm and within a few seconds Cody had relaxed enough that when Jim make some sly remark she threw her head back in silent laughter.

Tessa looked disgusted at the disregard and glared at her husband as if it were his fault.

Cikala only gave her a small disbelieving before turning his attention fully away from her. This only seemed to make Tessa even more upset.

"Interesting dynamics, are they not?"

Spock and Soli looked around as Creek slid up on his painted mare Digger. The paleontologist was watching Tessa snarl at Cikala who was pointedly not looking at her.

"Tessa wants to go back down the mountain, Creek." Soli explained.

"Unlikely." The brother said passively. "Cody has every intention of carrying us to the Lake and were it possible spending the night in the high cabin."

"Cabin?" Spock questioned.

"There is a secondary structure built on the Native Sky property at the peak of the mountain. It is used mainly as a guest, hunting or over night cabin to watch the calving season." Creek explained in the same quiet tone that he spoke when he mentioned anything at all. "It is on the edge of the Lake. And quiet a nice property. I often wonder the reasons why Cody does not rent or lease it. It's quite large and someone could live in it year round easily."

"It's the sentimentality thing, Creek." Soli hummed with a soft smile. "Misha designed and built the cabin himself."

Creek blinked for a moment before nodding. "I had not considered the sentimentality as a factor. That is understandable."

Soli laughed a little and gave a small jerk of her head and Chambeau and Digger ambled off together, leaving Spock and Esthul'kov alone again.

The hybrid smoother his hands over the hump of the Morgan's shoulder at the horse reached to graze the long blades of grass easily. The mind bubbling beneath the chocolate colored fur had reverted back to the light and easy existence, the fiasco with the grizzly almost completely forgotten and the gelding seemed ready and willing to head out again.

At Spock's touch the horse swung his head around and nosed at the toe of Spock's boot. He smoothed his hand up and down the curve of the horse's neck.

The Morgan huffed and lipped lightly at the edge of the boot before snorting and swinging his head back around and pricked his ear, wickering at Jim and the buckskin overo Kiger as they ambled back up. Nemo A534 bounding on their heels, jaws slack and open as the dog panted, still hot from the run.

"Spock, you mind riding up front with me and Bones and Cody? She's kinda torqued and she likes you as much as she does me and him."

"Is she well?" Spock inquired sharply. Jim shook his head.

"She doesn't show it but she's a little rattled. She'll mellow out in another couple of miles but right now she's a little worked over."

Spock twisted in the saddle and looked around towards where Cody was and next to her, slid up as close as he could make Rosewood stand, was McCoy. The medical officer was leaning towards Cody and making stilted and awkward shapes with his hands, trying to speak with her. And while Cody had a small, fond smile on her face her fingers were picking at the coarse hair of Honeycatcher's mane, twining her fingers anxiously and untangling them for a few moments before starting the process all over again. It was the only tell that there was something wrong. Her face seemed calm ad possibly impassive, she looked relaxed in the saddle and her eyes were skimming around in the same alert swivel that she always had, though a good part of her attention was locked on McCoy.

"C'mon." Jim urged and swung Woyuske around on his heels and trotted towards Cody, Spock and the recovered Esthul'kov followed at the same quick pace. Nemo A534 let out a sharp, booming bark that seemed to assembled th rest of the pack of dogs into some kind of order and the one eye German Shepherd led the way on Jim and Spock's heels back up the slope.

As Jim jounced passed Cody and McCoy he made a suggestive jerk of his head and urged a lope up the sloped side of the meadow bowl back towards the trail they had been following up towards the peak and Lake Como.

Spock followed, urging Esthul'kov up to a length behind the Kiger gelding.

The sound of hoof beats rushed up on the left side and Cody and McCoy loped passed them to get a head of their group again. A sharp, cut of a whistle tore from Cody's otherwise useless throat and a series of whinnies and snorts were accompanied by the chatter of hooves as the rest of the clan fell into line behind them.

A few hundred yards back onto the trail before the pace settled back down and Spock found himself riding next to McCoy a few paces on Cody's heels. A length behind him and to his left Jim paced the Kiger gelding, Woyuske making a point to nose at Esthul'kov's flank as they climbed upwards. The Morgan too good natured to even pin his ears at the crowding.

The air thinned and grew colder. The higher they climbed the trees turned colors, dotting yellow and red, oranges and browns over the green. And the deep, heavy limbs, thickly needled of conifers started to become dominant.

Spock shivered, the last of his adrenaline dump fading off into nothing and left him feeling a little hollow and exhausted. He drooped a bit in the saddle, a hand gripping the horn tightly to keep his balance.

Eshtul'kov senses the difference and swung his head around, nickering softly at Spock. The hybrid blinked lazily at him.

"Here." McCoy shoved a wrapped energy bar under his nose with a crackle of plastic. The hybrid jumped a little and blinked down at it.

"Spock. Yer crashin'. Eat it before ya fall off that horse." The medical officer snarled softly.

The hybrid gingerly took the bar out of the doctor's hands and as he was unwrapping it McCoy tossed a duplicate back towards Jim who caught it and stripped the treat himself. Looking back the hybrid was slightly alarmed to see Jim looking a little grey and unsteady in his own seat. The blonde offered a half hearted smile before taking a massive bite of the energy bar.

Spock gnawed at his own ration, halfway through it feeling the sugar and proteins surging through his blood and his awareness tipped, the chemicals in his system evening back out and his core turned over, warming back up a little to help battled against the steadily chilling air.

They climbed higher and the Chicalato clan, one at a time, unrolled bundles from their saddles and shrugged into hooded sweatshirts or sweaters or jackets. As the air grew thinner and colder the colors of the leaves became more vivid and mottled. Less green wove its way in and the low scrub and grass turned into long blades of yellow and tawny brown and looked more like some kind of wheat than natural grasses. The horses picked around stones and waded through the deep grass, bobbing along like boats on the ocean.

The dogs cutting through the grass were like dolphins racing in their wakes and leaving only dark, temporary paths in the long grass.

Spock hunkered down into his saddle, internally berating himself for foregoing his corduroy and synthetic fleece coat behind.

A quickening of hooves carried up towards Spock and the hybrid twisted as Jim approached and tugged a bundle from under his saddle cantle. He gave it a shake, making the Kiger jump slightly but not miss a step in the approach. It came out into a long drape of thick, navy colored fabric and seemed to be lined in some kind of short white fur.

"Here Spock." The blonde urged on him and before the hybrid could protest the young captain continued. "I've got a few solid layers on and living in space you get used to cool air. I'm sweating a little."

Spock hesitated before looking at Jim and having, in the matter of a split second, a long conversation and argument about the garment before a slight narrowing of the silver and cerulean eyes and Spock conceded and took the drape of cloth and fur.

"Thank you Jim…" Spock dropped the reins and allowed Esthul'kov to carry on himself and fidget with the thick garment. It took a moment for Spock to recognize the configuration and shook out what he now knew was a poncho. He tugged it over his head and settled the heavy collar around his throat and smoothed it down his chest and gave tug to the back to fit it formally more completely. The poncho was well oversized, the hem of it falling well towards his mid thigh, nearly to his knees and over his wrists to his knuckles. The feel of fur on his wrist made him shake a little beyond the cold but he had worn the leather gloves out of necessity as well. He could stand this until they climbed back down to the ranch. The space under the poncho heated up rapidly, creating a bubble of warmth and eased Spock's chill and settled him in the saddle. Below him Esthul'kov relaxed and gave a soft snort as Spock took the reins back up in a hand and twisted around towards Jim where he was dropped back in line just in front of Suri, Mogget, Joanna and Rouckhound.

"It is most sufficient."

Jim nodded. "I'd rather wear a poncho in the saddle than a jacket. Little easier to move around in and handle, you know? Ask Cody, she'll probably be more than happy to make you one. Might put up a fuss about having to find fake fur but when we go into one of the bigger towns around here next week or so we can drop in on a crafts store and get something there."

"Cody designed this?"

"Yeah. It's canvas fleece and wolf fur."

Spock stiffened a little. "Wolf?"

Jim nodded but seemed reluctant to do so. "She had to shoot one the first year they were here, before the wolf proofed fence went up. He was a colt killer. Silver and white fur. When she has to take a life like that she tries to do something with as much of the body as she can. Out of respect. She made the poncho and put the fur in it."

Spock nodded mutely and tucked into the wolf fur, actually dipping his nose into the thick cuff at his throat and drawing in a scent from it. Mostly it was the thick layer of Jim's scent, milk and honey and coffee, as well as the scent of dust and sweet grass hay and the sweat of horses in general.

But underlying it there was a musky, deep scent that was feral and sharp and bit at Spock's nose. It smelled thick and heady, something like the Grizzly had but lighter and slimmer and trimmed at the edge with an almost floral smell.

The hybrid refocused on their climb, content and warming up quickly under the poncho and with Jim at his back, McCoy to his side and Cody leading them upwards Spock felt safe enough to idly look around and study the flora and fauna and terrain around them as they climbed higher.

The mountain prairie broke and the trees grew thicker until they were pacing along single file on a narrow forest path, the opack of dog winding in and out of the legs of horses in their line. Nemo A534 kept close to Jim and Spock. They passed through trees that towered up above them. The old growth left along for well over three hundred years having been on privately own property since the early nineteenth century and being passed down hand to hand by either inheritance or purchase. Spock craned his neck to try and see the tops of the trunks more clearly, he had never seen trees so tall on Terra before. He wondered at their height and width, some of them so thick at the base that it would take several people holding hands to hug around the trunks.

The trail was thickly scented with undergrowth and the musk of animals, small passes of floral scent still lingering from the dying vegetation. The thick scent of crisp pine and sugary burn of the still hidden sap under bark.

The sunlight filtered through the branches, leaves and needles above and created a mottled pattern of shadow that cast dust motes and floating debris into a strange golden haze.

Spock felt himself relax so completely that had he not been hanging tightly to his saddle horn he would have fallen.

This place was quiet and peaceful and hummed with life. The light chatter of the Chicalato clan behind him turned into a low rolling musical tone at the edge of his awareness. His mind drifted comfortably and his core uncurled and relaxed a little, turning over to get more sun and warmth across itself.

The steep climb had evened out, smoothing the breathing of the horses and eased their paces. Esthul'kov kicked up his heels cheerfully, skipping along behind Rosewood instead of walking, switching his tail jovially and wickering and snorting to himself in a soft series of notes that had he been human or bipedal at all could have been called 'humming'. Spock wasn't jounced around in the saddle as the Morgan kept a light and easy stride despite his high spirits.

The gelding had quite forgotten that he had been very close to being killed by a bear only an hour or so before.

Spock heard Jim huffing quietly behind him, muffling a laugh into his collar at the antics and when Spock twisted around Jim grinned boardly, his cerulean eyes almost completely flooded silver.

"He's a damn clown. Belongs in a circus."

"Perhaps Esthul'kov and I should, as humans say, go on the road."

Jim barked a laugh that made Woyuske pin his ears and snort loudly. The Kiger jerked his hips enough to jostle Jim in the saddle and quiet the blonde down.

Jim leaned forwards and whispered in low Lakota to the gelding and laid his hand on the shoulder. Any tension that had been in the mustang drained out and his head dropped and hooves shuffled like a domestic bred Quarter Horse, no sign of the wild birth in him at all.

Spock wondered how it was that Jim, in all his infinite charm and genuine likeability, could turn simple diplomatic dinners with all his formal greetings and elaborate speeches into fire fights and yet a creature that had been bred and born of wild stock, untamable to some, and could not completely understand Standard was docile and content with only a few whispered words from the blonde.

Jim feathered his fingers through Woyuske's frosted mane and glanced up, metting Spock's eyes for a second before looking beyond him. He jerked his head a bit and Spock read the instruction to turn in the seat and look a head of them.

The trees had broken without thinning. Their path dipped down a bank and widened as the sloped earth and scrub gave way to short grass and finally rocky shore that was bubbled softly by the water of Lake Como.

The lake was large and oddly shaped but the surface of it was eerily still. Like a sheet of black glass instead of water. The surface blipped only occasionally as a few of the last insects of the season skimmed or settled to rest on the water. It was almost silent in the clearing that was dominated all most entirely by the mountain lake. The towering trees had been left free to grow right to the water's edge and some roots even sprawled into the dark pool.

The air was colder, chilled from passing over the surface of the deep water and trapped by the ring of trees and thick underbrush. The soft call of a loon rose from the far shore, well out of side but the warble rose and fell and Spock knew from experience that the nose was strong enough to drift all the way down the mountain and into the ranch where he had heard it nearly every morning and evening since his arrival to Native Sky. Now he knew the origins of the call.

On the far edge of the lake some of the threes had been gingerly thinned to make room for a home that was designed and built in such a way that it was no mistaking it as the smaller mate to the Native Sky ranch home at the foot of the mountain. The wood and stone work walls and large windows and a wide wrap around porch that was looking out over the water that below at the edge sported a long dock and small boat house. Just at the edge of the corner of the small lake house was the edges of a stable and paddock fence peeked just in sight. With these were a part of the original design or had been constructed by Cody upon her purchase of the land Spock could not tell from this distance and believed that even on close inspection he would not have been able to tell.

"Wow." Joanna said loudly, her voice echoing and amplified on the surface so much that she blushed when it broke the quiet and the rest of the Pups laughed quietly at her small misfortune. But the disturbance seemed to break the spell and the clan and their mounts relaxed some.

Except in the case of Tessa who was evidently still fuming from her place in the saddle and at the back of their trail group.

Her agitation was beginning to make the horse under her irritable in turn.

"That's the Como House." Jim said quietly as his shoulder when Woyuske shuffled up to stand next to Esthul'kov who was tugging restlessly at his bit and pawing at the earthy shore of the water, clearly wanting to dive right in but staying out until he was urged or given permission. "I think it was built at the same time as the ranch house but I dunno for sure. Good match if it wasn't."

"What is its purpose?" Spock asked.

"Fun. In the summer mostly and sometimes guests. Cody thought about renting it out but she always got cold feet about it. She said I could have it if I ever wanted it." The blonde shrugged a shoulder.

"It seems frivolous." Spock said quietly.

Jim smiled broadly. "Cody said that too when she first saw the property but Misha talked her into it. Went on and on about how it reminded him of his grandparents place in Russia and Cody folded like a cheap horse blanket. Half the time I think she bought the whole property just because it made Misha bounce around all starry eyed."

Spock looked down towards where Cody and Honeycatcher were standing on the very edge of the lake. The cremello's hooves sunk to his cannon bones in the water and gravely shore bed. McCoy had slunk up close to her side so that their knees were trapped between the bellies of the stud and Rosewood. He wasn't speaking to her or commanding her attention at all. Only looked out on the lake with a similar expression.

Something a kin to slight wonder but leaned more towards exhaustion and possibly regret.

Looking out at Lake Como made Cody look very old and very sad.

From his side Jim seemed to notice the change in the Alpha and quieted some. A small pulse of sorrow so strong swept over the blonde that it actually tinged the air with a bitter metallic scent. Spock instantly reached out and lighted a hand on Jim's shoulder, squeezing it tightly and hanging on well beyond what should have been considered friendly contact. The emotion that had welled subsided a bit and the air freshened again and after a long second of hesitation Jim reached around and settled his hand over Spock's wrist, linking his fingers around the slender joint and sent a ripple of gratefulness and muffled sorrow through the contact. He squeezed Spock's wrist once before letting his hand slide away again and Spock let his own drop off Jim's shoulder and back onto the horn of his saddle.

During the small exchange Esthul'kov had felt the emotion and air twist around them and the gelding had quieted instantly and swung his head around, gingerly nosing as Spock's boot with a soft huff of breath.

The hybrid skimmed his fingertips over the gelding's shoulder in his first, deliberate and intentionally Vulcan kiss to the Morgan. Planting it gently at the juncture of the neck and shoulder. A place that Spock had often seen Cody or Jim bury their faces in the midst of hugging a horse and placing an affectionate kiss and nose at the skin to draw in the scent.

It felt natural to place his own kind of kiss in the spot.

His kin would have been appalled at the sight.

Esthul'kov hummed happily and lipped at the toe of Spock's boot.

"You'll get to see what I mean sometime when we're up here in the summer." Jim's eyes lingered on the spot where Spock had kissed the Morgan but he said nothing and made no mention that he had understood what the action had meant.

Spock quirked up and eyebrow and Jim looked up to see the tilted brow and went very still.

"I mean… you know… if you ever came ba-"

"Jim I fully intend to return to Native Sky, of that there is no doubt." Spock assured gently and the corner of his lips twitched a bit. "It has become, in fact, a prerogative. As long as I am welcomed onto the land and into the door by Cody I will return here. For reasoning not only because of how welcomed I have been into this place but also for a simple fact. Until further notice, my horses are here."

Something flashed in the silver of Jim's eyes but the blonde only nodded. Before the conversation could continue their attention twisted to the side as a bit below them Cody and McCoy were gingerly turning Rosewood and Honeycatcher on their heels and stepping around back out of the water, leaving ripples that were absorbed by the dark water well before it could destroy the sleek surface all together.

They climbed lightly up the bank a bit and back onto the wallowed out dirt of a branch of the narrow trail they had been following through the mountain forest. It wove up the bank a bit and back around into the trees some, following the curve of the lake and towards the Como House.

They fell back into file and followed the edge of the water and trees dutifully up a small slope and broke onto a driveway that wove out of sight through the trees behind them. Hooves crunched and ground in the packed dirt and crushed gravel as they ambled up towards the Como House. Cody led the way off the drive, onto the slightly over grown lawn and towards the large paddock and simplistic stable attached. The structure was nothing like the stable barn down the mountain. Standing with an open build and no doors at either end. There was no tack or feed room, only an open space across from the short line of stalls that would keep hay out of the weather. The paddock itself sported a simple, large space lean-to at one end. Making it clear that a number of animals could be kept her comfortably but only temporarily. A more permanent situation would require storm doors for the deep winter and more elaborate heating, cooling and supply keeping systems.

Cody led the way around towards the paddock and lightly dismounted Honeycatcher and loosely tied his reigns to the middle rail of the triple rail fence of the paddock. The pack of dogs ambled around, dashing off into the underbrush to hunt rabbits and mice and dig holes in the soft lakeside earth.

"Jim?" Spock as quietly as the rest of the clan followed the Alpha's example.

"Gonna take a little break, have something to eat before heading back down." Jim assured as he and Spock slid up to a part of the fence alone and dismounted in sync.

Their boots hit the earth in the same soft thud and they each immediately loosened the girth of their saddles, tugging them up a bit to let the air flow under the lightly cool the heated skin below. Woyuske and Esthul'kov nickered in thanks and relaxed, turning one of their rear legs up on the hoof in a rest position. He Morgan instantly dipped his head with the slack of the ties reins and munched at the over grown grass. The Kiger seemed content to shut his eyes and sway his ears, already dozing.

"Should we unsaddle them completely?" Spock asked.

"We'll only be her for an hour or so, otherwise we won't make it all the way back home before its pitch dark out." Jim rolled his spine, stretching and pulling at it with a series of soft pops and crackles that made the blonde sigh and wince at the same time. Spock rolled his own shoulders and arched his back just a bit before falling into step with Jim after the blonde had grabbed the large packets out of their saddle bags. Nemo A534 stayed on their heels, ignoring his kin as they rooted around for small animals to track. They ambled through the tall, weed mingled grass and they crossed the lawn towards the porch and climbed up a series of stairs that was taller than the ones on the wrap around porch at the foot of the mountain. Jim led Spock around the corner of the house and onto the large common space on the porch that looked out over the lake though the trees that had been left to grow. Most of the clan had already gathered their, each dumping packets from their saddle bags onto the center of a large rounded table. There were deep seated wooden deck chairs and around the edge of the porch was a railing that sported a line of benches.

Some of the clan had dropped themselves into the deep seated deck chairs, others were sitting lightly on the benches. The Pups had bounded down into the yard and were chasing each other around, shrieking wildly and letting up enough noise to make an eerie chorus echoing off the lake surface and they tried to scramble up the trunks of the towering tress without the use of branches and rolled and pounced on each other roughly in the long grass, sure to be bitten by insects. Marie watched over them diligently as she shuffled steps behind Matoha as the baby crawled through grass taller than he was.

Jim dumped their packets down next to the rest of the pile where Cody was cutting the binding with a pocket knife and pulling out the contents. Smaller packages of trail mix and dried fruits and nuts.

Jim led Spock over to another tall set of stairs and he climbed halfway down before dropping onto his rear and sprawling back onto the step, tilting his chin back and exposing his throat to the sun. Spock followed suit, settling down and leaned back lightly, not taking the same liberty of lunging on the steps the same way that Jim did but relaxing casually and tilting his own face up towards the warmth of the sun, now that he was sitting still it gathered on his cheeks and eyelids and warmed steadily, he bundled deeper into Jim's fleece and wolf fur poncho and felt his core sooth at the heart compacted enough that it was comfortable for the first time since Spock had unearthed himself from the layered covers he'd burrowed into the night before.

Nemo A534 padded down the steps to the one they had sat down on and carefully situated himself until he was lying on the step with his head draped into Spock's lap. the hybrid toyed absently with the one eyed dog's ears.

As he settled he caught the sound of Jim's breathing next to him and before Spock could stop himself his own rhythm of inhale and exhale had altered to matched perfectly. He dropped his face to watch the reflection of light as it was swallowed up by the darkness of the water in the lake. The edge of his vision was marred by the flashed of color and high shrieks of the Pups flooded his auditory spectrum.

Spock let his vision blur a bit and then his eyes drifted shut tiredly and his head fell back all together, settling awkwardly onto the steps behind him and letting his muscles go slack and the soreness seep in until he can find time to either soak or meditate the aches away. He had never ridden so long before and the soreness was as fresh as it had been after the first night of working with Hornet.

He breathed in sync with Jim and soaked in the warmth of the sun and let his awareness drift and uncoil.

"How do you like it so far?"

Jim's quiet hum floated through the slight fog that had settled around them. It was not abrupt or harsh and in fact only seemed to rise out of the chorus in a solo rise and fall.

"Minus the bear thing and all." Jim amended.

"I believe the time we have spent thus far could not have been given a better use." Spock assured, eyes still dusted shut and throat exposed to the sun.

Jim hummed quietly in agreement and the chorus of the lake and forest and clan fell back down around them. There were several long seconds of the tapestry around them before Jim spoke up, quieted hum coiling around Spock's heart and core and settling in a new layer around the thick ball of collected emotions and imprints Spock had gained over time from his time at Native Sky.

"I'm glad you want to come back Spock. We like having you around… I like having you around. You know… without duty and the ship and having to deal with the suits and paperwork and everything. I like it… like it just being us and the horses and the mountain and everything… Bones is awesome and everything. But he doesn't get it. I think you do."

After a few long minutes Spock shifted sideways, just a few inches until their shoulders were pressed together, new point of warmth seeping through the contact and layers of clothing. Nemo A534 shifted and belly cralwed forwards to keep his head settled into Spoc's lap, curling against the hybrid's hip and letting out a soft, contented sigh.

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**A/N: Tis done. More eventually. Hope it was worth the wait. Thanks all for being patient.**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Yeah okay. I got no "excuse" for this taking so long. It was a mix of crushing real life and writers block and this chapter in general giving me Hell, but obviously, I eventually got it done. I fully intended for the 'holiday chapters' all to come out around the actual holidays. Yeah. Fail. And I swear I have full intention of finishing this story, I promise you all, so many thanks to the loyal readers and new ones brought in by this update. Just bare with me. And unfortunately I had such difficulty with this chapter that I cheated to make it easier and more appealing. And that cheat is simply this: a kiss. **

**So there. Yes I am that low.**

**Also bear with me, this is not well edited. It is very large. Be satisfied.**

**Extra Note: I like wolves, I promise. **

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**Summary:**_**"Wolves." Jim snarled**_

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**Lost Horse Creek, Montana**

"**When you are lonely, let me be your companion. When you are tired, let me carry the load. When you need to learn, let me teach you… after all, I am your horse."**

**-Unknown**

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**Chapter Nineteen: A Bad Night Indeed**

_**"**__**Do not measure your loss by itself, if you do, it will seem intolerable…"**_

**-Saint Basil**

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_**Native Sky Ranch**_

_**124 Flathead Road**_

_**Lost Horse Creek, Bitterroot Mountain Range, Rocky Mountains, Ravalli County, Montana**_

_**Stardate: 2260**_

_**October 31**_

_**0430**__** Hours**_

_**...**_

The night was a hard one for Spock. The voices rose again in the mountain. They had been so quiet for so long the hybrid had nearly forgotten the different voices. The different songs. He lay awake for hours listening, tuning himself back into the rise and fall, echoes off the mountains that the day before Spock had climbed with the Chicalato clan and Jim. The mountains where a bear had tried to kill him and they had spent and afternoon lounging on the porch of the Lake House on the edge of that still mountain pool.

The climb down had been swift and nearly a blur as they followed a direct trail along the wolf proof fence to make it back to the ranch house before true night had fallen.

It was an odd night to begin with, after rubbing down, feeding and bedding down the horses. But it was the task of putting the younglings to bed had proven to be an event that rivaled the Narada Incident. They pleaded and clawed and begged to be allowed to stay awake and watch the next day turn over with horror movies that made Jim shiver at the mention of their titles and villains. They had to be herded and chided and basically brow beaten until they were dumped into beds with promises of the next day full of food and sweets, monsters and mayhem the next day.

It still had only seemed to just appease them and they growled and snarled sourly to each other well after they had been ordered and bundled into their camp set beds in the loft space of the attic.

The long day and dramatic night had been enough that even Spock felt the long lost fatigue setting in deep. It worried him slightly, the loss of energy, physically and mentally. He resolved to try and meditate before trying for sleep. When he mentioned his intentions to Jim the blonde had nodded in approval and advised Spock he may need it considering that the next day was a holiday and they were expected to make a public appearance.

Another aspect that caused some mild agitation.

Spock had been thankful for Jim nearly silent presence when he'd made his attempt to meditate that night. The blonde slumped in the hammock strung in his room, dozing and idly reading one of his many antique books with Nemo A534 draped awkwardly over his hips and legs. Listening to the pattern of Jim's breathing and his occasional hums and huffs at whatever he was reading was like a chain linked to an anchor.

As he tried to sink away from the conscious world Spock looped his consciousness around the chain and gingerly followed it link by link away from the anchor itself as he worked his way along the fine, fayed threads that webbed his mind. He tried to reweave a few of them, binding liken threads together to make them stronger and staving off further unraveling. He ran mental fingers over a few, trying to smooth the fibers back together before moving on to the fractures that had grown from fine cracks and fissures in shields and parts of his psyche.

Spock pondered over the cracks, fretted over their slow and steady widening, he approached cautiously, all too aware that he was far from a Mind Healer and tried a few different tactics. He tried to smooth the fissures over, tries to will then wench the edges together, he tries to knit them together and in a mild panic about his lack of progress he drew away, sinking deeper towards his core. It pulsed and hummed quietly low in his being, twitching and trying to adjust to the ill balances influence of other existences hovering on its borders.

The eerie infuriated pseudo connection with Khrash-yel was raw and pulsing, throbbing and sore, grating against his core and _katra_. He felt his innards twist a bit unhappily when he realized that it was actually starting to eat at him physically, burning raw into the sides of his heart and intestines and stomach. Spock poured himself into fortifying the splintering and blistering barrier and tried to actually pass on some calm and soothing influence into the blistering link. It flared and lashed out violently at him, so harshly Spock felt as if he'd been kicked and he snapped out of the thin veil of meditation he'd held. He shook the grogginess away and blinked his eyes clear.

His attention turned to the side when he heard a high pitched squealing and low bellows and an agitated horse.

Spock recognized the timber of voice instantly and a lance of sorrow went through him.

Khrash-yel has felt and understood his attempts to sooth and cut her off from him. Cody and Jim had warned him that her mind might have been gone all together or may have been warped so deeply into awareness that even minor presses and pulls would result in catastrophic triggers and reactions.

Jim shifted and rolled, pushing himself up half awake to the sound coming from out of doors.

" 'S that mare…" He muttered incoherently.

"Jim. Stop." Spock urged gently, making the sleep ruffled blonde look in his direction, with heavy half lidded eyes.

"It is Khrash-yel. She is my responsibility. Return to your rest."

Jim blinked blearily at him before nodding numbly and sliding back into the hammock and drifting off again.  
Spock carefully eased himself out of the bed, throwing back the bedding and swinging his feet down onto the floor, his thick socks protecting him from the cool of the carpet and the icy hard wood floor. Spock quickly pulled on the hooded sweatshirt Jim had gifted him with and slipped out the door. He climbed down the stairs swiftly and passed through the darkened kitchen and into the mud room. He pulled up his boots and slung his corduroy jacket on over the sweatshirt before slipping outside.  
The screams and racket that Khrash-yel was making rattled off the metal and stone of the stable barn and ranch house, it pitched up from the valley and thundered off the high mountains where her cries had discourage the natural singers of the mountain from taking up their chorus.

The cold of the pre dawn night and tore at Spock's throat and lungs, making him choke and feel like he's swallowed ice water. Spock gave a full bodied shudder and curled in on himself, shaking continuously and tucked his chin in close to his chest. The hybrid forced himself back into movement, trotting along the lawn, his boots crunching the frosted grass.  
The sound had other horses stirring anxiously. The more wizened and experienced ones were quiet, used to the sounds on a new distressed horse on the ranch. Khrash-yel was not the first rehabilitation case that Cody had taken on. But the younger horses were pacing and nickering nervously.

As Spock passed the paddock where the newest purchases were still adjusting to their new home, Esthul'kov, Spock's bay Morgan gelding rushed towards the fence and whinnied shrilly. The horse broke out fro the dark and his form was outlined by pale light from the moon and the large guiding lamp mounted on the peak of the stable barn. The gelding's skin was twitching and jerking anxiously and his tail switching back and forth. He pinned his ears and paced in place, actually pawing at the earth.  
Spock broke his track and crossed to the fence.  
For a moment Esthul'kov became more agitated and called when Spock carefully laid a hand along the horse's rounded jaw. The bay gelding calmed a bit, his breath still coming in a rush, wickering and snorting softly under his breath. His ears twitching occasionally towards the sound of Khrash-yel still wailing in her round pen. Spock smoothed his fingers gently along the length of the gelding's jaw and down the bridge of his muzzle, tracing the loops of his nostrils before gelding the soothing touch back up again to skim around the large doe brown eyes and thick black eyelashes. Spock spoke low and soothingly to the gelding, assuring him low tones of ancient Vulcan that he was safe and all was well.

Once Esthul'kov had calmed considerably Spock carefully extracted himself and took his jog across the lawn back up. The bay Morgan pacing along with him on the other side of the paddock fence until he ran out of space to follow and stood pressed against the corner of the paddock looking after Spock.  
The Morgan twitched his ears and skin nervously, nickering after him.  
Spock crossed the last of the ground towards the round pen, the darkness more complete here as the lamp on the stable barn was majorly blocked at this angle. Spock caught the flickers of movement in streaks and rounded humps of silver in the waning moon.  
Khrash-yel was not moving easily, still recovering from her rotten hooves and their work to restore them, but from what Spock could see of her movement it seemed that the Quarab mare was trotting stiffly around the ring, tossing her head and occasionally kicking or bucking unhappily. Her chest was heaving and she was lathered with sweat. Her voice was rough and hoarse when it broke from her slack jaw and she was foaming at the mouth.  
She looked possessed.

Spock shied back for a second before shaking and steeling himself and moving back to the fence. He quietly climbed over into the ring pen, not intending to rouse the horse to his existence but succeeding anyway.

Khrash-yel skidded to a halt not to far away from where Spock had landed in the dirt. He could easily hear her labored breathing coming in wetted rushes from blown wide nostrils. Though his sense of smell was poor he caught the thick, musky aroma of her sweat, it was slightly tinged with a coppery scent that Spock only knew because of his exposure to human blood for so many years. The composition of the horse's own plasma not far off the human one.

It turned Spock's stomach and he murmured low in Vulcan as he carefully approached the volatile mare, his arms held out away from him, palms up and moving slowly and loosely as he had seen Jim approach nervous animals before. Khrash-yel, from what he could see of her faintly illuminated frame tensed and skirted back, as he moved their was a hitch in her stride and Spock knew instantly that it was her hooves. The still healing hooves must have been shredded and torn while she threw her newest fit.  
Spock continued with his low, soothing tone, not really saying anything specific. At one point he actually slipped into reciting mathematical rules and formulas as he carefully and slowly shaved off the distance between them.

Khrash-yel pressed herself into the far wall of the paddock, ears pinned and teeth flashing in the dim light, it was clear she felt trapped but shied from lashing out just yet. Spock had never shown her violence, never raised his hand to her. She had the faint, fluttering notion that if she played her cards right that Spock would continue to treat her gently. One of those cards included refraining from attacking unless she deemed it completely provoked and necessary.

Spock was putting that decision to the test.

The mare hunched, muscles bunching, tension ratcheting up higher and higher to a point that Spock to actually taste it. It burned acidic down his throat.

Khrash-yel was shivering violently by this point, tremors making his skin hitch and twist under a flecked coating of sweat on her neck, chest and shoulders.

Spock pushed forwards by increments but it was too fast, to rough, putting too much weight into the thin membrane of Khrash-yel's thus far non-reaction.

Each step forwards made the mare jerk and tense tighter, the jerks of her muscles masked by the dim light, creating an illusion that encouraged Spock instead of warned him off.

The hybrid took that last few steps to fast, closing the distance too much for Khrash-yel's poor temper and control.

The Quarab mare lunged at Spock's offending presence. Her lips curled back completely and teeth flashed and buried themselves deep into Spock's forearm. The thick fabric of Spock's corduroy jacket and fleece of his sweatshirt muffled the strike, preventing it from cutting flesh but Spock felt the pressure and the pain as the mare's jaw closed on his arm. Instinctively he jerked away, tearing his arm free and stumbling back from Khrash-yel.

The Quarab mare was more than willing to comply, letting her mouthful of Spock's clothes and arm go almost a soon as she had bitten down. The mare leapt back, using Spock's distraction and imbalance to dodge around him and sprint towards the other end of the round pen, her mottled gray hide disappearing into the dim light and cast shadows.

Spock skidded back and away, putting his own bit of space between them and carefully twisted and turned his arm. He winced when the muscles pulled oddly and pain shot up through to his shoulder. Letting out a pant of a breath Spock cradled his arm to his chest and looked towards the dark where Khrash-yel huddled, waiting for punishment for her actions.  
Spock felt a lance of pain through his chest, the ache making the guilt of having missed the signs and pressed the mare to much heavy across his lungs and with it a spike of emotional pain that Khrash-yel had attacked him when he'd been trying to help her.

He cast a final look at her before murmuring quietly into the dark, _"Ni'dori'ik nar-tor."_

The apology hung heavy on his tongue and throat and Spock retreated from the round pen, climbing back over and striding purposefully across the lawn toward the ranch house. He ignored the bell like call of Esthul'kov beckoning him over. Spock blindly slipped into the kitchen shutting the door behind himself and quickly stripped out of the corduroy jacket and sweatshirt.

He turned his forearm into the pale yellow light of the over head lamp in the kitchen.

The flesh of his forearm was unbroken but as he watched a massive blossom of dark green and purple started to seep the surface of his skin, the deep bruising harsh considering the many layers between the mares teeth and his skin. Spock could actually make out the darkened rings and faint outline of Khrash-yel's dental map.

He was quietly thankful for his jacket and sweater.

His skimmed his fingertips lightly over the abused flesh and winced at the tenderness and faint throb it sent up his arm. When he twisted his wrist and elbow ache flared clean up to his shoulder.

The muscle was bruised then, possibly twisted.

Even looking at it Spock watched the quickly bruising flesh start to swell.

He crossed to the refrigeration unit and tugged open the freezer, he rooted around, finding little he could use in his sloppy attempt in medical aid. He reluctantly and with a slight grimace, extracted a thick slab of mule deer venison wrapped in heavy wax paper.

Spock nudged the freezer closed with his shoulder and crossed to the table, he eased down into the seat at the head of the table and carefully laid out his arm in front of him, finding the greatest flex he could accomplish without continual pain then laid the slab of wrapped meat across the welling bruise. He winced as the cold connected harshly with his flesh, his already normally cool body temperature dipping harshly under the exposed area.

Spock let out a long pass of breath before he bent in the seat, folding his good arm back and laid his head down on the cushion of were his bicep pressed against his forearm at the bend. Despite the small shivered brought on by the slab of venison and small ripples of after shocks Spock let his eyes drift shut and his breathing deepen.

Minutes ticked by, Spock occasionally acknowledging individual ones to gauge the time slipping passed him.

"Spock?"

The hybrid recognized Jim's tone despite the gravel of sleep still hanging on it.

He roused himself, tilting his head to look up at Jim.

The blonde hair was ruffled in odd directions, dark smudges hung under his eyes and he stood almost on a lean.

Spock had never seen him look so tired.

Jim tugged at his loose fitting tee shirt, shaking it down over his jeans and he padded quietly in his socks over to Spock side.

"Spock, what happened?" He asked quietly and reached for the improvised compress.

The hybrid didn't stop him from carefully lifting the slab of wrapped venison. The skin below had had the time for the injury to fully develop.

The large bloom of deep green was accompanied by a boarder of yellow, the indents where Khrash-yel's teeth had set more solidly were nearly purple. Despite the uncomfortable cold the skin and muscle had still swelled a bit, ballooning his flesh outwards.

Jim was silent before he made a soft sound that Spock couldn't quiet place the meaning of. He hesitated for a second before reaching out and lightly skimming the very tips of his fingers over the bruise.

Jim sighed quietly. "I recognize that."

Spock cocked his head up and looked at Jim, eyebrows lifted.

"She got you good huh?" Jim asked and gently lifted the wrapped slab of venison completely away and crossed to the freezer. He set the meat back into the compartment and dug around a bit before pulling out a fresh one. He crossed back and sat down to it cattycorner to Spock and gingerly eased the new compress down on his swelling skin.

"Thank you." Spock whispered and eased himself back down onto the table, pillowing his head again on his arm. His eyes drifted shut.

Jim stayed sitting up for a bit before folding his arms on the table and dropped his head to rest on them as well, bringing himself down to Spock's level. The hybrid slit an eye open and looked at the blonde for a moment before shutting it again.

"Pushed a little too hard huh?"

"I miss read her physical cues in the low light and advanced when I should have retreated."

Jim hummed quietly in response but said nothing else for a short time.

"Kinda hurt your feelings little bit huh?" Jim prodded gently.

Spock slit one of his eyes open and looked at the blonde duly.

"I mean all you want to do is help and make sure they feel alright and are healthy and stuff and you make a mistake and they bite you. Or kick you or whatever else. It hurts your feelings."  
"You speak with experience." Spock murmured.

"Loads of it." Jim assured but didn't press for much more of an answer to his earlier inquiry.

Spock held back from answering and shut his eyes again.

Across from him Jim did the same and for a long while they dozed in company, occasionally one peaking at the other and making some small, statement or another into the comfortable quiet.

The doze spun between them must have been deeper than Spock or Jim anticipated. They both jerked awake that the firm nudge of small but strong hands.

Cody looked down between them with her head cocked to the side, looking almost like a bird. Her grey eyes soft and concerned.

Like Jim she gingerly and carefully reached towards the thawing piece of wrapped meat and lifted it. It seemed that the second piece of meat had done work the first had not. The swelling of the hybrid's flesh was all but gone, the discoloration still covered his forearm in an ugly blossom of faint pain but it was numbed and dull. Spock felt a bit chilled because of it and he shivered a little when the deaf rancher gently touched the injury.

Her face was grim but knowing and she let a pass of breath slip from her lips that spoke far more than most could. Like Jim she instantly understood what the bruise was and how Spock had gotten it.

She shook her head a bit but lifted the slab of melting venison completely away from the hybrid's arm and deposited back the refrigerator before extracting what she needed to make a light breakfast for them before she and Jim were meant to head up the mountain to Cody's heard of cattle.

She put on a kettle to boil and set about making a thick porridge of boiled oats heavily seasoned with honey and maple sugar.

The smell filled the space evenly and was just strong enough for Spock to catch and enjoy with the two humans despite his weaker sense of smell. Despite an urge to draw back down into sleep Spock stayed faintly alert, watching the movements at the corners of his eyes and focusing on Jim. The blonde had felt no duty to stay away and had fallen back into a doze.

The kitchen was filled with the sounds of Cody moving around and cooking and the smell filled the space.

The back door rattled and Spock roused himself to turn towards the sound, taking note that Cody had clearly missed the movement and, as per always, had been unable to hear it. Spock lifted himself from his seat and crossed to the door, tugging it open and standing back he allowed the pack of dogs to jog into the kitchen with Nemo A534 in the lead.

The one eyed German Shepherd stalled in front of Spock and pressed himself against the hybrid's legs. The hybrid side stepped back to his chair, dropping into it as Nemo A534 followed him there. Spock easily dropped his hands into the thick fur of the dog's neck. His fingers carded through the thick fur and gently pulled the skin, the heat from Nemo A534's body warmed his finger tips.  
The one eyed dog panted warm, moist breath across Spock's face, eyes closed happily as Spock scratched and scrubbed at the base of his eats and eventually under his jaws.

Jim bent a little and dug his fingers and nails into the dog's back, scratching along Nemo A534's spine until the dog's whole body was bowed out in pleasure, balancing awkwardly on thee paws and kicking one rear leg through the air.

Jim grinned widely when they pulled away Nemo A534 had to scramble a little bit to keep from falling over, the dog wuffled air through his jaws and ambled away quietly, following the trail of the pack of dogs running loose in the ranch house.

Spock and Jim settled back into stillness at the table, Listening quietly to the sound of Cody working at the counter spooning out chunks of dough onto a metal sheet in large lumps with no real uniform. When a sheet was filled she slid it into the oven and started on filling the next sheet.  
When Spock turns the slab of meat over to press the colder side to his skin he speaks quietly to Jim, as if trying to keep his voice from interfering with either of the blondes. Though one couldn't hear him and the other had confessed many times to enjoying speaking with and listening to Spock.

"Today is All Hollows Eve, is it not?"

Jim hummed and nodded quietly.

"And we are still attending the community festivities?"

Jim looked sidelong at Spock and said quietly, "You don't have to go if you don't want to."  
Spock shook his head mutely. "I only ask to prepare myself. It will be… odd encountering large crowds again."

The blonde huffed in agreement, "Feel like that all the time. At least this crowds not going to try and scalp us. Strip us for information yeah."

"Indeed." Spock traced the edge of the thawing slab of meat and asked quietly. "Will we be required to attend in traditional dress?"

Jim's brow furrowed. "Traditional… you mean wear costumes?"

Spock nodded silently.  
Jim grinned. "As much as I would LOVE to see you in some weird getup, no you don't have to wear a costume. The kids will though. And I think Cody and Bones are gonna do a Raggedy Anne and Andy thing."  
Spock cocked an eyebrow and glanced to where the deaf rancher was pulling out a long tray of the biscuits and slid a new doughy tray into the oven, his sable gaze slid back to Jim and the blonde gave a twitched kind of smile and jerk of his shoulder.

There was a soft clatter from behind them. They turned as Cody finished spooning out helpings of the oatmeal and carried it over, setting the bowls on the table before them. She gave Spock a gentle pat on the shoulder as she turned back to he work on the counter and started to prepare ingredients for the Brotherhood to use for their breakfast while Jim and Cody were on the mountain.

Quietly Jim and Spock pulled spoons from the collection of silverware from the ceramic container in the center of the table and gingerly started to eat the offered meal, more picking at it than eating it.  
"And the Brotherhood? Yourself? Will you wear a costume?"

Jim smiled softly as Spock's low hum, "Gotta say 'm sorely tempted. They have a theme every year, typically. But Cody didn't mention if they were doing that this year or not."

Spock's slanted eyebrows flicked up. "Most intriguing."  
"Its usually a lot of fun dressing up to match and everything but I'm not really into it this year."  
The Vulcan hybrid's brow dipped a bit. "You have never been one to shy from festivities in any way."  
Jim shrugged and hummed a noncommittal noise. Spock fell silent and did not prod the blonde.

He didn't need too, after a few long moments Jim spoke quietly on his own.  
"I don't feel like a lot of stuff." Jim scrubbed the back of his neck. "Bones thinks… thinks 'm depressed."

Spock stiffened slightly. " … depressed?"

Jim shrugged again as if it didn't matter, a side note among everything else. "He's still all anxious… after… well."  
Spock nodded and Jim breathed a soft sigh of relief having been spared speaking aloud about the blonde mental break some months before after a shock on the planet Charus XI.  
Jim continued, "So… so he figures 'm at least depressed. I don't really listen to him when he really gets going… it all sounds like gibberish half the time anyway, right?"  
The blonde gave a weak huff of a laugh before dropping his eyes back to the table top and started to fiddle with a small puddle of water collecting next to Spock's arm as the meat thawed. The water was tinged red, a few drips of blood having broken lose to swirl in the melt.  
Spock watched Jim draw out a few swirled shapes before speaking quietly.  
"That is unsanitary."

Jim huffed a laugh but neither he nor Spock made an attempt to stop the blonde as he continued to fiddle with the water.  
It wasn't an uncomfortable silence that followed, though it seemed weighted and thick around them. The scent of baking biscuits and the soft movements of Cody in the background as the alpha worked evenly and tirelessly to provide for her younger siblings and their children while she was away roaming the mountain in the early morning hours.

Nemo A534, Situpsa and Wagi wandered back into the kitchen, clearly fed up with the pack of dogs and they sprawled themselves on the floor in just the right places to force Cody to step over or stand awkwardly over them, though the added living obstacles seemed to do nothing to slow or hinder Cody's movements.  
The last tray of biscuits came out of the oven and she spun dials to turn the appliance off. She gathered the used dishes and utensils and set them into the sink to be washed at a later time. Cody rinsed her hand, turning the floured and pink skin back to its natural coppery tawny color and roughened skin. She shook the water from her skin before glancing over and catching Jim's eyes. She looked at him for a long second before flicking her eyes to Spock, giving a jerk of her head towards the door, then she marched into the mud room and proceeded to tug on her suede and fleeced jacket and tug her Stetson hat down over her hair and slipped out the door with the dogs rushing to follow.  
Spock and Jim watched the door in silence for a long moment before they turned to each other.

Jim lifted his chin and adopted a serious face and a mocking commanding tone, "Boss lady Cody say up the mountain with you."  
Jim relaxed again with a slip of a smile. "Or that you can go with us if you want. It wasn't really an order."  
Spock blinked silently at Jim. "To check the livestock?"

Jim nodded mutely.

"I don not believe Esthul'kov is ready for such a task."  
Jim hummed. "And Jeep went up yesterday… and I can't put you on Titmouse, she'll flip… Wolfie then."  
Spock stayed very still for a very long moment, he knows, knows with every cell that his next words are so painfully important that even the slightest mispronunciation or ill chosen word could literally destroy everything between them. The fine, carefully woven chord of their friendship hummed nervously at the sudden tension. The four threads making it up twitched individually, giving both encouragement and warning.

Spock spoke slowly, "It has been… some time since Yellow Wolf has taken a bit. Will he accept one willingly? I am yet unpracticed with a bosal and I do not wish to cause him discomfort."

Jim blinked at him and for a horrified second Spock is sure he's misspoken, the chord between them is silent and still.

Then Jim smiles softly and puffs out a soft breath, he dropped his head to settle his temple on his palm, looking over at Spock silver flooded eyes.  
"He might fuss for a few minuets but he'll be fine." Jim assures quietly and after a second pushes himself up from his seat and motions for Spock to do the same. In comfortable, companionable silence they fit their gear together, pulling jackets and hats on, Jim stalls Spock long enough to wrap a knitted brown and green scarf around Spock's throat.  
"Gets colder as you climb up. Might be frost up there already." Jim hums and leads them out into the yard. Its still dark though there is a faint glow rising over the peaks. Spock breaths in, the chilly air searing his throat and lungs. He coughs a few times and wrinkles his nose when he catches the faint drifting scent of pine and thick forests from high in the peaks. The mountains are silent for the moment and the silence is a little eerie but not entirely foreboading.  
Jim seemed to think otherwise, he fidgeted and looked around, listening far more intently than Spock.  
Jim puffed out a breath, it bloomed in a cloud of vapor before his face before dissipating. "Make some noise out there, will you? Of all days for it to be silent out there…"  
Spock cocked his head slightly. "Specify."

The blonde glanced at him in a second of confusion before understanding crossed his face. He offered a weak smile as they strode across the lawn towards the pool of yellowed light fallen across the lawn from the open doors of the stable barn.

"There are a lot of superstitions around this holiday, Spock. Most of them having to do with the 'veil' being thin. The veil meaning that the barrier between the living realm and the dead or spirit realm." Jim explained before Spock could ask. "So theres a kind of notion that spirits and monsters could cross over into the living realm and… I dunno… do mischief and screw with the living and that kinda thing."

Spock was silent for a moment. "As such the beliefs are, then you experience anxiety in the face of abnormalities, no matter their insignificance."  
Jim hummed and tried to look admonished, " 'M not anxious… just… be nice if it wasn't… " Jim made a wide motion towards their surroundings. "… silent. Not, you know… natural…"

Spock looked around and followed the line of the mountains in the dimly lit morning.

The hybrid listened intently and breathed in deeply.

"Does it mean anything?" He asked quietly. "The silence?"

Jim left out a soft sigh, air passing through his nose instead of his lips and he shook his head a bit. "Dunno."

Silence hung between them for a few long minuets before Jim gave Spock a gentle nudge, breaking them both back into motion.

"C'mon. Got to get in the saddle."

Jim urged them across the yard towards the pale lit stable barn.

They slipped into the open doors and the more comfortable heated air of the barn. Down the line of stalls Cody was busy saddling Ceasefire, one of her massive foundation studs. Ceasefire was a dark blue roan appaloosa that could only be distinguished as part of the bredd by dark fleck of black in his pelt, his legs mane and tail were all a sleek blue black. There wasn't an ounce of white on him. Spock had only encountered Ceasefire a few times, the stud had never been overly friendly or overly aggressive, she seemed more or less indifferent.

Ceasefire swung his head around to watch Spock and Jim's approach with mild interest. The movement enough to draw Cody's attention up from her work on the saddle to glance at them.

Jim's hands lifted, twisting and twitching out signs for Cody to read even as he spoke aloud. "It's dead silent out there Cody."

The petite rancher made and exacerbated look of annoyance. One of her hands flicked out a quick series of signs.

_**Really? I didn't notice.**_

Jim blinked then flushed a bit. Cody blew air through her nose and rolled her eyes before setting back to work on tightening up the tack on Ceasefire's back and across his chest and belly.

Jim twitched his attention towards Spock, the hybrid lifted an eyebrow.

"What? I forgot." Jim muttered uncomfortably and strode swiftly towards the tack room.

Spock glanced at Cody but could not seem to catch the petite rancher's attention, resigned, he moved to follow Jim into the tack room. He moved to the set of gear that Spock knew to be Yellow Wolf's tack and gathered it, leaving the bosal and saddle behind in favor of the set of synthetic tack that he favored. Spock gathered all of it together, hefting the now comfortable weight into his arms and stepped back out of the tack room, leaving Jim behind as the blonde still gathered the tack he would use for his choice in mount for the morning.

Spock strode the distance down the line of stalls to the one shared by Blackbird and Yellow Wolf. The two studs within perked their ears in interest and cocked this heads towards Spock, obviously interested and confused by his approach. The hybrid did not blame either of them, Spock had never before approached Yellow Wolf alone and the hybrid avoided Blackbird at all costs.

The buckskin stud unsettled him.

Even now he couldn't look Cody's 'boss horse' in the face and spoke quietly, knowing that his coax would draw Jim's favored horse forwards and signal the overo stud's half-brother to step back.  
"Yellow Wolf." Spock said quietly.

The two horses's flicked their ears but as Spock expected Blackbird backed off, moving towards the back of the stall and out of the way as Yellow Wolf eased forwards and stood expectantly at the stall door.

Spock set the tack down and out of the way, extracting the overo stud's halter and lead rope from the assortment before he slid back the latch and pushed the door open. He half stepped into the stall, standing the bedding and carefully slid the halter around Yellow Wolf's head, buckling it behind his ears and along his jaw before clipping the lead rope onto the chin ring.

Spock gingerly laid his bare palm on the bridge of the stud muzzle, pressing a thumb into the side of the nasal one. The horse's mind hummed raw but gently against his skin, a serenity and confidence and assurance that Spock was no threat tangled with a mild confusion.

He hesitated momentarily before speaking softly to the buckskin overo.

"Jim has asked me to accompany him and Cody up the mountain. He said that it would be best I ride you there. Is this agreeable to you?"

Yellow Wolf has twitched an ear towards Spock, so close the hybrod practically was speaking into the perked tulip of thin flesh and fur. For a few long moments Yellow Wolf seemed to process and contemplate what Spock had said, puzzling it out until he understood.

Spock knew the second the horse had come to a decision, a calm sense of affirmation passed over the hypersensitive skin of Spock's hand.

A fraction of a second later Yellow Wolf snorted and dipped his head towards his chest in a deep, equine nod. Yellow Wolf swung towards the hybrid's hip and nudged it, urging Spock to move. Now that the overo stud knew there was work to do and was far to eager to get to it.

Spock allowed himself a twitch of a half smile, grateful that the stud was more than willing and led him out of the stall, giving the lead rope enough slack for Yellow Wolf to step out and turn around while Spock was occupied with closing and latching the stall closed again.

Though he kept his head dipped he felt Blackbird's eyes on him, watching every move he made and breath he took.

Spock let out a breath when the wood and metal was safely between them. He tied the lad to the bars and gently nudged the overo stud around and set to work currying and smoothing his coat.

Spock fell into the now familiar series of movements of tacking up a horse. He felt calmed and confident; each action he took was well practiced, steady and sure.

He as vaguely aware of Jim off to the side tacking up one of his horses that did not get long workouts very often, Misu.

Misu was a compact, thick boned, and only half gentled. Jim had not had much time to work on the mustang gelding, though, considering what little work Jim had been able to put into him Misu was exceptional. The gelding was a pale red roan with a dark face; legs, mane and tail all pitch black.

Spock worried momentarily at Jim's choice of mount; he could had easily taken one of his more experienced animals or any one of Cody's horses. Spock watched Misu look around anxiously and pace with nerves were he was tied even when Jim passed a soothing hand over his shoulder or spoke quietly to him.

The gelding was all nerves and inexperience on what Spock believed to be a hard ride.

For having sensed some kind of tension and foreboading in the air that morning Jim was not making it easy on himself by choosing Misu to carry him.

Yellow Wolf nudged his shoulder and Spock turned his attention back to the buckskin stud and smoothed a hand down the bridge of the stud's muzzle before quickly slipping the bit in between his teeth as gently as possible and then threaded his ears through the browband, the hybrid tossed the reins over the overo stud's neck then untied the lead, looping the end over the saddle horn.

Spock gently nudged Yellow Wolf back towards where Cody was waiting patiently on Ceasefire and lightly mounted up onto Jim's favored horse.

It took Spock's breath away for a moment. Not just the push to air that left his lungs when he settled onto the saddle. Spock had to breathe deeply for a few second to settle the sudden rush in tempo of his heart.

He'd never been this close to Yellow Wolf before, never on his own. A bit of realization told Spock that he had never been this close to _anything_ as important and influential to Jim as Yellow Wolf before.

The thin braid of threads that hummed between himself and the blonde thrummed continuously, growing in volume until a low hum and chime was ringing softly in his ear and back of his skull. Instead of an annoyance and weight on him it soothed him, took the weight off his spine.

Spock let out a long breath, Yellow Wolf sighing himself simultaneously. He glanced to the side and saw Cody watching him closely, one of her cinnamon colored eyebrows lifted and her grey eyes reflective and interested but lacking any kind of judgment.

Spock swallowed thinly and looked away from her gaze, suddenly to intense and twisted around to where he could see Jim gently and quietly encouraging Misu while he slowly mounted the greenbroke mustang. The red roan skipped forwards a few nervous steps before Jim collected him, using his weight and the reins to pull Misu's head down into his chest, making the gelding snort and back up a few steps but after a moment of quiet coaxing Misu stood still with his head pulled up and tucked. The gelding puffed a few breaths before sighing and groaning as he relaxed. Jim slowly loosened the reins and lightly patted Misu's shoulder. He waited until the red roan was completely relaxed before gently urging him forwards, Jim looked up, cerulean eyes over shadowed with thick streaks of silver. He waved to Cody, urging her on before giving a thumbs up of assurance to Spock.

When the horses started for the door canine shapes climbed to their feet from resting places near the hay. Nemo A534, Wagi and Situpsa stretched, lolled their tongues though the air was cool and sharp and gave swishes of their tails and bounded excitedly a head, eager to get to work.

Cody sighed through her nose but took no other prompting and Ceasefire took off at a quick trot seemingly without cue. Spock glanced back at Jim once before nudging Yellow Wolf gently with a knee and the buckskin overo took off at a quick pace after the blue roan appaloosa.

Jim and Misu followed at a more sedate pace.

They sidled out of the pale light of the stable barn and out into the crisp and cold predawn dark of the Montana morning. The hooves of the three horses crunched in the dewy and half frosted grass. Spock looked up into the dark, making out the deep outlines and darker shadows of the mountains overhead. Spock swallowed softly and felt a bristle of unease trail down his spine at the lack of noise. Not even the wind is whistling through the peaks.

Below him, sensing his sudden tension, Yellow Wolf rumbled, sending a vibration through Spock and nickered softly in low assurance.

Spock leaned forwards a bit and laid a hand gently on Yellow Wolf's shoulder, lightly patting the thick pad of muscle over the bone, letting the horse know he understood and was grateful.

The overo wickered softly and switched his tail.

A head of them Cody and Ceasefire easily unlatched and swung the gate open, the three dogs charged a head, barreling out of sight in a few long strides. The deaf rancher and her mount stepped out with the gate and making plenty of room for Spock and Yellow Wolf, then Jim and Misu to skip through from the yard into the pasture and open land leading into the mountain.

Cody and Ceasefire sidled sideways and nudged the gate closed again, latching it into place with a soft clatter of metal on metal. It was a shock of sound in the eerie quiet. Misu skipped and nickered nervously and Jim gently patted the mustang's shoulder.

The trio of horses and rider stood together for a moment, seeming to just take in the world around them and each other's company.

Cody seemed to shake herself, snorting and she gave a tug to the reins, swinging Ceasefire around and loping across the pasture.

Spock blinked and looked around towards Jim. The blonde gave a shrug before motioning Spock a head.

"Walk on. She'll either slow down and wait or we'll just have to let Wolfie do all the work."

The buckskin overo flicked his ears and tossed his head with a indigent snort.

Spock gently urged Yellow Wolf around and broke into a flat foot trot after the deaf rancher and blue roan appaloosa, Jim and Misu followed at a more sedate pace.

They wove through the darkened pastures, spooking deer and small herbivores in the long grass before starting their climb upwards.

For the most part it was easy to forget that somewhere a head was a third rider and horse. Spock felt alone with Jim. Every once in a while one of the three dogs bounded back into sight, as if to check on them and at the same time look annoyed at their slow footed climb.

Spock was content to allow Yellow Wolf to amble leisurely up the slope with Misu hugging the more experienced stud's flank closely.

The buckskin overo stud took it in stride and didn't ever flick his ear at the crowding. In fact Yellow Wolf seemed to be gently encouraging the younger animal, humming to Misu assuringly. It took Spock a moment to rationalize Jim choice to ride the nervous, untrained mustang instead of a steadier animal. He was taking the opportunity to expose Misu to Yellow Wolf, he had known that the stud would encourage and help build the confidence and self esteem of the other horse.

Misu was benefiting enormously and was actually starting to calm down, strolling along semi placid, only flicking alert and nervous ears around.

Now that Spock understood the motive he himself settled some and felt more comfortable about Jim's choice.

They climbed along through the lowlands before Yellow Wolf picked his way out of the long grass and found the now trail that hugged the predator proof fence out of the lowland into the mountain scrub and rocky earth. On the other side of the fence in the mimic trail path were the large canine tracks of wolves pacing the fences.

Once Spock noticed tracks larger and of different configuration than the prints left by wolves but he couldn't determine them.

They climbed well passed the point that Spock had once walked with Nemo A53 until the rocky and brush slope gave way to thick conifers and deciduous trees. The heavy smell of cold wood and vegetation made Spock wrinkle his nose, the bite of pine almost over powering everything.

As they climbed higher the temperature slowly and steadily continued to sink despite the way the sun climbed into the sky. The air thinned, filled with the bite of pine, rocks slowly started to turn into boulders and even the thick level of trees started to thin.

All to soon Spock felt himself shivering despite his layered clothes. His breath came out if large clouds of vapor. All of them, especially the horses were puffing like living locomotives, leaving trails of steam behind them.

Spock's head twitched to the side when Misu jogged forwards a couple of nervous steps, skidding a bit when Jim started to struggle out of his over coat. The mustang jittery about the sounds of fabric hitting air and the jerky movements. Yellow Wolf nickered to reassure the red roan but did little for it, Misu tensely tottered along until Jim had freed himself completely from the jacket then pushed it on Spock, leaving the blonde with only his favored APHA hoodie.

"Jim-"

"Take it, 'em sweating as is anyway. Hurry up before Misu starts thinking 'm a puma."

Reluctantly grateful Spock relieved Jim of the leather and fleece jacket and ackwardly draped it across his lap and the saddle in front of him.

Jim gave and indigent snort. "Put your arms through it so it's across your chest."

Spock looked down at the coat and after a moment looped the reins loosely around the horn of the synthetic saddle and pulled the coat across his chest, threading his arms through, it was over large only because of the width of Jim's shoulders and it filled the gap that Spock's own corduroy coat left open. The heat from Jim's body still clung to the fleece and it soothed Spock a bit almost instantly. It made His movements a little more awkward but didn't stop him from picking the reins back up and continuing on.

"You will inform me when you wish for it back, correct?" Spock asked.

"Sure" the blonde replied airily, his focuse on the head of the trail as he gently urged Misu a head of Yellow Wolf. The red roan mustang fought and tried to slide back behind the overo buckskin before finally relenting and sulkily taking up the lead a head of Spock and the stud. The mustang gelding twitched his ears anxiously and edged along the trail nervously, despite Jim's constant reassurance.  
"Almost there, little bro." The blonde soothed, continuously patting the nervous gelding's shoulder. "Almost there. See. Look. There's Cody and 'Fire."

Spock sat up in the saddle and looked further up the trail, waiting patiently a head on what looked something like a campsite carved out between several large boulders was Cody, Ceasefire and the three dogs. The blue roan appaloosa stud flicked his ears down at them and stored, drawing Cody's attention away from where she was scanning the horizon and trees around her.  
Misu threw his head up and bugled at the stud and Jim gave him a gently jerk of the reins.  
"Quit. You be quiet. You know you're not supposed to do that." The blonde scolded gently, Misu snorted but didn't make another call to the stud a head. Yellow Wolf and Ceasefire both seemed to snort at the bad manners, twitching their ears at the younger horse.  
Jim and Spock urged their mounts up into the space between boulders with Cody. It was a wide space that looked something like a bowl. The earth was packed and smoothed, dusty, compared to the rocky trails and open ground between scrub and trees.  
Spock looked around and noticed a few different things in the space that were without a doubt manmade. A couple of downed logs, sun bleached bone white with age were loosely curved around a small pit dug and lined with stones. Another log seemed to have been hewed down and wedged firmly between two of the boulders a few feet off the ground, obviously a hitching post.  
" 'S camp." Jim explained quietly. "For when we move the herd and during calving."

Spock nodded in understanding then spoke quietly while Cody fiddled with her personal dataPADD, scrolling through something on the small screen of the PDP.  
"I must say that from what I have observed along this trail and the trail to the boat house on the lake, I cannot say I believe the terrain is productive to livestock."

Jim smirked gently. "It doesn't, does it? But most of the peak is a highland prairie and meadow. S'why Cody picked it up in the first place. It's a little hard on cattle, would be better for sheep, but Cody 's got a rhythm and balance on it with the round bales and stuff. The Highlanders are built for it too. You'll see." Jim assured.

Spock nodded and snapped his attention towards Cody when the deaf rancher made an odd, guttural noise. He and Jim both sat up in their saddle seat, at attention and ready. It felt natural, waiting for the command of a superior. An Admiral.  
Or in the case of Cody, an Alpha.

The rancher tucked her PDP away in a pocket and blew air through her nose before making a few twists of his hands in signs.  
_**Stay with each other. No matter what. Got it?**_

Jim and Spock nodded in consent.

Cody eyed them for a moment before making an odd, humming noise in his chest and throat then gave a low whistle.

The three dogs, lounging in the dirt, launched to their feet instantly, ears perked and alert, they wagged tails and looked expectantly up at Cody, shivering with excitement.

The deaf rancher rolled her grey eyes before nudging Ceasefire into motion, turning the stud out towards one of the gaps between the boulders, the dogs charging ahead and making Misu jumping nervously. Jim patted the mustang and urged him to follow in Ceasefire's tracks. Spock and Yellow Wolf dutifully brought up with rear.

Jim twisted and spoke to Spock over his shoulder.

"Spock just so you know Wolfie's got a job to do and he's gonna do it no matter what. So don't try and boss him, just… Hell I guess just hang on. Alright?"

Spock nodded mutely and reached down and touched Yellow Wolf's shoulder, feeling the roll of muscle and bone. Beneath his fingertips Spock felt Yellow Wolf humming with a swirl of emotions and images that left Spock feeling slightly lightheaded. Though the overo stud seemed calm and colleted his was nearly spilling over with anticipation. The horse's consciousness was starting to overwhelm him and Spock drew away, settling his hand on the swell of the saddle and held the reins in a loose grip as Yellow Wolf trotted quickly on Misu's heels, actually nudging the mustang, trying to hurry the gelding up.

Misu rewarded him with pinned ears and a few little hikes of his heels, warning of a kick in the near future.  
"Wolfie." Jim warned from over his shoulder, his low tone making Yellow Wolf pull up and Misu tense nervously. "Back of will you?"

The overo buckskin gave a quiet, sheepish wicker and stayed fixed where he'd stopped while Jim urged Misu away up the trail. The buckskin swayed his ears and made a low groan of unhappiness. Spock cocked his head down to look at the stud, his lengthening hair escaped from his hat and fell over his brow and the swept point of his eyebrows. Spock reached down and soothed a hand across the overo stud's shoulder.  
"I am sure he is not truly angry with you, Yellow Wolf." Spock soothed and Yellow Wolf flicked his ear towards him before swinging his head around as far as he could to actually look back at Spock, pale blue eyes meeting sable.

"I am absolutely positive." Spock reassured. Yellow Wolf blinked before making a strange humming noise in his throat, he switched his tail once to swat against his flank and swung his head back around. Spock glanced a head to ensure that Jim and Misu had moved far enough off before urging the overo stud back into motion. Yellow Wolf set off at a slow walk, following the narrow trail with his nose nearly touching the earth.

Spock suppressed a sigh focused a head, hoping Yellow Wolf's sudden depression would pass when they met with the herd.

The trail wound on, climbing a bit higher but moving mostly across the face of the mountain, sliding through trees and boulders until they suddenly broke into pale dawn light on a massive highland plain. The grass was long and hardy, rotted deep and standing firmly against the harsher elements of the peaks. The wind here was cold and blew low and steady, making the prairie ripple and rush like green waves.  
The grazeland stood out on a shelf that seemed to cover most of the peak, looking up it faded in grey stone and looking down the slope it became tree line and mountain scrub.  
Among the swaying ocean of mountain grass were the hulking shapes of living islands. Their square frames were heaped with thick red brown fur, the long locks of it tangled into chords. The hair fell in a thick mask over their faces and only swayed out of the way for the wide curve of horns branching across their skulls.

They mawed and rumbled and swayed along through the grass like boats, bovine frames rolling along, a few of them lifting their massive heads, seemingly featureless behind the drape of fur. A particularly large animal, sporting a thick band of leather and a large metal bell that clanged and clunked when it moved lifted its heavy horns into the air and bellowed at them with a long, drawn out rumble.

The belled animal started slowly towards them, ambling a direct path towards Cody and Ceasefire. The blue roan stud trotted out to meet the creature and they touched noses, passing breath between them before the creature nudged passed and lifted it head towards Cody. The deaf ranched reached down and affectionately scrubbed between the curved horns.

The tall grass swayed sharply in places were the dog charged headlong into the growth and rushed at the massive animals, stirring some of them up into trotting away, lowing indigently at the mild harassment before the which ever of the three dogs had charged on to find new quarry.  
Spock felt Yellow Wolf vibrating at the sight of the animals but the hybrid kept him under control and urged him towards were Jim and Misu were hanging back. The red roan mustang's ears were thrown so far forwards he looked as if he were choking and he looked around at the dotted animals nervously.  
Jim was gently patting the mustang's shoulder continuously and muttering to him in the soft, rolling tones of Lakota. The blonde looked up as Spock approach and offered a lopsided smile.  
Spock twitched his head towards where Cody was patting the thick haired animal while her eyes were scanning the rest of the plateau.  
Jim's brow furrowed and he looked over then realization cross his features.  
"Oh. That's Rosie. Boss cow. She was the first one of the breed that Cody ever bought."

"The breed?"

"Highlanders. Scottish Highlanders. Most of them. There are a couple of hybrids but for the most part they're Highlanders."

Spock nodded in silence and watched Cody gently nudged Rosie away. She made a jerked of a motioned towards the two of them and she steered Ceasefire up towards the peak, curving around the edge of the prairie.  
"High ho high ho." Jim hummed and motioned for Spock to turned Yellow Wolf around and start downwards.

"Jim, may I ask …"

"We're counting 'em mostly." The blonde stated anticipating Spock's question. Getting a count and looking for any of them that might be hurt or if a predator got to 'em since yesterday. But mostly it's the counting and tightening them up a bit. I'll count you keep your eye out for anything off and let Wolfie work, alright?"

Spock nodded and took up scanning the mountain grass and keeping a loose hand tangled through the reins.  
Feeling the slack and having his head Yellow Wolf, ears thrown far forwards, the overo took off at a hot trot, bouncing along with his head swinging back and forth and nostrils flared and sucking in air deeply.

Spock glanced back at Jim where the blonde was edging Misu along more slowly. His lips were moving though no sound came out as he flicked his eyes over the rounded back of each Highlander before moving on to the next. Mumbling numbers and simple equations to himself and clearly memorizing them as he didn't write or type as he counted. It took a fair bit of effort for Spock to drag his attention away from the sight of those silently muttered numerals and try and catch Jim's eye even as Yellow Wolf carried him more a stray.

The blonde glanced his way for a fraction of a second then back when he realized Spock was trying to hold his attention.

The hybrid drew Yellow Wolf up to a stop despite the stud's disgruntled huff. "Cody said we should stay together and yet Yellow Wolf has full intention of straying. I do not know how to accomplish both."

"He's just excited, pull him back a little bit. He's not made out of glass Spock, if he starts bossing you around and having bad manners stop him." Jim commanded quietly and the hybrid dropped his head a bit, acknowledging that he'd been fairly lenient towards Yellow Wolf's actions, instantly he tightened his grip on the reins a bit and felt Yellow Wolf snort in response, ears still flicking around and nostrils still flared.

"Thing is usually its me and Wolfie rushing around tightening everyone up and that why he's in such a hurry. Just hold him back from jogging off and we'll get Nemo to flush strays for us and then you and Wolfie can run 'em back, alright?"

Spock nodded and Jim turned in his saddle and gave a sharp whistle. The long grass not far off gave a rush of movement and then parted as the one eyed German Shepherd bounded towards them, ears perked and tail aloft.

"Hey Nemo, got get us some strays alright? Get some strays." Jim commanded with a slight smile. The dog barked and charged off at top speed rushing towards the tree line.

"Just keep one eye on him and when he pulls something out turn Wolfie towards 'em and hang on tight, okay?"

Spock nodded, his eyes already focused on scanning the tree line. As they climbed downwards,  
Spock now holding Yellow Wolf back to pace with Misu, the overo stud resigned to being restrained and relaxed enough that Spock loosened his grip some without worry of Yellow Wolf taking off on him.

They climbed downwards, alert and calm and cutting through the grass at leisure almost.

There was a crash from the tree line that made Misu jump sideways and Jim rush to calm the mustang as Nemo A534 broke cover on the heels on a large wayward heifer. She kicked at him lazily but spent more energy ambling across the grass towards the herd.

"Go light a fire under her why don't you Spock" Jim encouraged with a grin. Spock nodded and turned Yellow Wolf just so towards the ambling heifer.

Feeling the stud shaking a little Spock loosened the reins and squeezed his knees.

He nearly was throw out of the saddle when Yellow Wolf took of at a dead gallop, Jim's pealing laughter followed him as Spock regained himself and latched onto the saddle horn with a death grip.

Yellow Wolf swept down the slope so fast Spock wasn't sure the horse wasn't just falling. As they neared the sluggish heifer Yellow Wolf dropped his head, pinned his ears and snorted a sound through his nose that sounded almost like a roar. Nemo A534 skidded out of the way and the heifer launched forwards in mild fright she lowed loudly and kicked a bit at Yellow Wolf.

The offended stud promptly nipped the heifer on the flank making her bellow and put all her energy into rushing away from Yellow Wolf.

The overo stud slowed up a bit to a more controlled lope now that the heifer was moving along, he tossed his head and snorted continuously, badgering her on until she rushed back towards the center of the grazeland and into a group of six other Highlanders. She gave a final, stubborn maw of resentment before she went about catching her breath and chopping long grass to eat.  
Yellow Wolf wheeled around and proudly pranced back towards where Jim was smiling and snickering a bit. Spock loosened his grip on the horn and dared to breath evenly. He narrowed his eyes at Jim in accusation.

"I warned you." Jim hummed and reached to give Yellow Wolf an approving pat on his muzzle. The overo nickered and started flicking his ears and sucking air again, looking around for something else to chase and bully.

"I was unaware that his reaction would be so extreme. I would have appreciated a more detailed warning."

Jim shrugged innocently and turned his attention back to counting the livestock.

They slowly circled their way down and around the cattle then climbing back up on the other side of the plateau. Jim counting the head under some invisible line and Spock occasionally hanging for his life as Yellow Wolf chased down a Highlander that Nemo A534 flushed for them.

As they climbed back up a panting Nemo A534 let out a few barks. They echoed and were answered further up the slope by the deep baritone sound of Wagi and yelp of Situpsa calling back.

Jim stiffened and sat up in the saddle, making Misu twitch nervously. Spock glanced between the blonde and up a head were Cody and Ceasefire were loping down towards them with some urgency. Jim lifted a hand and twitched out a question for the rush.

Cody didn't sign anything but made a jerky motion for them to follow as she yanked Ceasefire around and charged back up the mountain at a gallop.

"Don't fail me, little bro." Jim hummed before giving Misu a sharp squeeze, the red roan jumped sideways unhappily before taking off at an uncontrolled gallop.

Spock barely touched Yellow Wolf before the buckskin overo was off at a gallop, charging up the slope at full speed. Spock pulled him down a bit once they came even with Misu, the more experienced horse supporting the gelding with his presence.

The red roan nicked thankfully and hugged close to Yellow Wolf's side.

They sprinted upwards and Jim was half standing in the saddle to see a head, the way his face twisted Spock was certain the blonde had a notion of what was happening but loathed to have it confirmed.

A dark shadow crossed the grass a head of them, they snapped their attention up and saw the dark shape of a large bird, drifting lazily over head and following the same trial they were in Cody's wake.

Following the bird's supposed direction they saw a few more of it's kind circling lazily a head.

"Damnit!" Jim snarled, making Misu jump but settled back into his rhythm.

They slowed a bit to a lope when a head of them Cody brought Ceasefire to a stop. They loped up to where Cody was and stalled.

Spock winced and coughed audibly when they were assaulted with the smell of decaying flesh. The horses twitched nervously at the scent but didn't spook away, even when Cody nudged them closer to the smell.

Laid out in the grass the bloated and shredded corpse of one of the Highlanders. The flesh had been shredded from bones and lay in bloody and rotting ribbons, bones broken open for the marrow, the body split to get at the softer organs and the earth and grass around it trampled flat.

There were large canine tracks sunk into the mud made by the blood of the carcass.

"Wolves." Jim snarled.

Cody dismounted and stalked towards the carcass, she signed rapidly over her shoulder.  
_**Follow the trail and fix the fence. **_

Jim tensed, his eyes flashing dangerous silver, looking as if he wanted to fight but he tugged Misu around and bending over the saddle, tracing the shape of paw prints and smears of blood in the grass. Spock followed, eager to get away from the smell of death.

The moved parallel along the prairie and broke into the trees, the wove oddly through the slender trunks, cutting a path were there was none except for the blood trail and occasional tracks.  
They had to climb up a bit before the tree line gave a little, a line cut through them were the boarder of the Chicalato's property

Another line of predator proof fence wove its way through the trees. There was no horse trail cut along it, though the far side sported the same pacing of large predators that the rest of the fence did.

They followed along the fence, picking their way through brush and trees until they came to a place that One of the large round wooden posts has worked it way free from the earth. In its uprooting it had twisted free a large section of the fence and double line of barbed wire until it was nearly flat on the ground. There were sheds of long Highlander hair and flesh caught on the twisted barbed wire and fence.  
Jim let out a snarling string of curses and dismounted from Misu and quickly knotted the reins around a branch, preventing the anxious horse from running off. He passed a soothing hand over the mustangs shoulder and opened one of the bags hung on the skirt of his saddle. Her rummaged around and came up with a pair of thick work gloves and a small, hand wire cutter.

"This is going to be one ugly patch job." Jim muttered.

Spock gingerly dismounted from his saddle but didn't bother to tie Yellow Wolf, he knew the horse wouldn't wander.

"How may I assist?" The hybrid asked.  
Jim tugged on the gloves and strode towards the damaged fence. "Just stand on the post, I didn't bring extra gloves." The blonde snapped and Spock quieted at the tone.

Jim's voice was hard and sharp, it bit through the cool air and made the short hair on the back of Spock's neck stand on end. Spock stayed silent and moved over to Jim's side, he stepped carefully over the twisted fence and set both his boots onto the post, balancing carefully with a hand braced on a nearby tree. Jim himself climbed onto the fence and squatted down before taking the wire cutters to the this predator fence and tearing at it.

Spock understood instantly why Jim needed him to stand on the post. The fence was thick, difficult to cut with a large wire cutter, much less the hand held one that Jim was employing. He had to twist and wrench at each thread of the fence before it broke and he could move on.

It took nearly a half hour for Jim to cut his way down one side of the post, he was sweating and shaking a little by the time he got to the end and turned his attention to the strands of barbed wire and cut them free. He motioned Spock, actually physically pushing the hybrid into position so that Spock braced his boots against the post, giving Jim the leverage he needed to yank the cut fence free of the post and let it swing free.

Spock nearly fell over under the aggressive jerks but he held onto the tree for support.

With the fencing free, Jim leaned next to him panting for a second, his sweater smeared with blood where he'd rubbed against the shreds of flesh and his hair plastered to his skull.

After a few moments of silence Jim stood up and pulled the fence up and nudged Spock around behind the tree they had silently agreed to keep as a focal point.

"I'm really gonna need you now Spock, you're stronger than me so it'll help a lot."

Jim's voice and tone had lost of its biting edge but none of it's emotion. Spock nodded numbly and waited docile and obedient.

"I'm gonna have you pull both ends around behind this tree and I'll wire it together, I don't have nails or anything so it'll have to do until we can come back tomorrow."

"Do we not run the chance of pinning wolves in with the livestock?" Spock dared to ask the volatile blonde carefully.

Jim's gave a single, full bodied shiver that could have been disgust or rage. "Yeah but it's either one demon or a hundred here Spock. A bear or a lion or something'll use this as an opportunity too."

Spock nodded silently and hesitated before accepting the gloves when Jim stripped them off, they were to large and fitted awkwardly but Spock trusted Jim judgment that he needed them. He reached for one side of the fence, and tugged it, pulling at the wire.

"Here." Jim grunted, Spock turned and saw that Jim had done the same for the other side. The hybrid reached, tangling his fingers into the wire near Jim's hands and tugged, pulling the two ends together, he labored only a little to make the ends meet and over lap a bit.

"Gonna get a little up close and personal here, Spock, sorry in advanced." Jim carefully squeezed his way into the small gap between where Spock stood, the fence and the tree. Jim kneeled and the backs of his shoulders pressed into Spock's hips. The hybrid swallowed tightly at the contact but said nothing and didn't give up his position or grip.

He could feel the rise and fall of Jim's torso against his pelvic girdle as the blonde breathed. His shoulder blades ground and rubbed against the wings of his hips as he roughly twisted and bent hooks into the cut ends of the fencing and linked them together, he worked his way rapidly, Spock glanced down at the top of the blonde head and watched Jim grimace and twitch when the wire would twist and catch in the skin across his knuckles, making thin lines of red bead to the surface.

Spock shivered each time one of these small wounds was laid into Jim's hands.

Halfway down Jim stopped when the wire was butterflied to far apart for him to force them together alone.

"Can you move down?" Jim asked and reached up to grab a hold of the edges where Spock held to keep the fencing steady. The hybrid nodded and slid his grip towards the bottom of the fence, squatting awkwardly next to Jim with his arms wrapped on either side of the blonde to tug the fencing together. Above Jim let go and set to work instantly twisting and hooking ends together again.

He turned his head to the side; they were so close his cheek nearly pressed into Spock's.

"Thanks." He hummed softly and Spock flicked a sable eye in his direction and gave a tiny nod before turning his attention back towards the fencing.

Another ten minuets of work before Jim had twisted all of the wiring together. Jim shifted and his side and shoulder pressed into Spock's arm and flank.

"Let go."

The hybrid instantly loosened his grip and the strained fence snapped away, hitting the tree trunk with a thwack, making both horses jump and Spock and Jim tumble back into the under brush. They lay in a tangled heap panting.

Jim's voice came muffled from somewhere next to him. "You were really hanging onto that thing."

"Indeed." Spock hummed, his eyes looking up into the sky between tree branches. Jim gave a weak laugh then a sigh and carefully extracted himself from their tangle and sat back in the earth hands loose in his lap.

Spock pushed himself up and mimicked Jim's position, he tugged off the work gloves and rubbed his hands a few times.

The hybrid glanced up and saw Jim doing the same, rubbing at the fine cuts he'd gained from the wire.

"Jim?"

The blonde looked up then down again, studying his own scratched hands then looked back up, offering a weakened smile. "It only stings a little."

Jim climbed to his feet without much more reassurance and stalked back towards Misu, stuffing the wire cutters and gloves back into the saddle bag before he unties Misu and lightly mounts up before Misu can throw a fit.

"C'mon, 'm sure Cody's done by now." Jim hummed.

Spock blinked up at him before nodding and following Jim's example, stepping over and lightly climbing back aboard Yellow Wolf. The overo stud snorted and shifted over, giving Misu the room to turn around and they started back through the trees, picking their way back into the prairie plateau.

Spock traced a thin line of black curling up into the sky in wisps and puffs. They crossed back through the long grass and came to where the carcass had been, this time the scent of carrion was over shadowed by the smell of burning hair and cooking meat. Ceasefire swung his head back around and flicked his ears towards them, nickering low in his throat.

A head the last of the carcass was still smoldering as Cody kicked out the embers and showered the corpse with dirt the best she could manage. The corpse hadn't been burned completely away but enough had been charred that predators would not return to it willingly.

Cody backed off of the carcass and stalked towards Ceasefire, he normally grey eyes were stormy and pitch black around the edges.

She was humming thought silent, silent in a way that was not excuseable by he handicap.

She climbed back into her saddle and without comment turned and started across the plateau, heading towards the horse trail that had brought them up and would take them back down again.

Somberly Jim and Spock fell into line behind her.

The blonde looked back at Spock and muttered, " 'S not looking good."

The hybrid had nothing to say to that and focused his eyes and thoughts on Yellow Wolf's black tipped ears.

… POSS BREAK…

The climb back down was as deathly silent as the one up, even the heavy panting of the dogs and the occasional whuff of air from one of the horses seemed muffled.

Ceasefire and Yellow Wolf, now tuned into the scent and possibly of wolves lingering around cocked their ears and kept their heads high and alert, instincts swung into gear.

Misu, clearly, was exhausted, his nerves and anxieties pushed passed their limit and he ambled docilely down the slope, head hung low and depending on Jim or the two studs to warn and protect him from any danger or surprises.

They dropped back into the valley and padded quietly across the creek and through pastures and gates back into the lawn and finally the stable barn. It was well into the morning by then and as they were untacking the horses the Pups rushed out, bursting with excitement, they chattered incessantly, dragging response from Jim and Spock but getting nothing from Cody, the deaf rancher was deep in contemplation and when one of the younglings strayed towards her she buffeted them away gently but firmly.

After a few attempts they stopped trying and slightly sobered focused their attention on Jim and Spock, taking advantage of the more open adults and bribing there attention by offering to lift and carry and put away lighter tack and help feeding the worked and stabled horses. At one point Suri, Joanna and both of the Twins each had their own brush and were helping Spock sweep Yellow Wolf's fur clean.

Toweya was chattering at Jim though she was backed against a stall door, staying well out of the way of Misu who had regains some of his anxiousness with the presence of the Pups.

Spock was only listening with a fraction of his attention, numbly agreeing to pacts and promises that he would have to go searching through his subconscious to find out what to later.

One caught his attention, soft spoken and pleading gently from Suri.

"Yer goin' with us to do Halloween stuff, right?"

Spock cocked his attention down towards the far younger hybrid and nodded assuringly. "I have no intention of doing anything else tonight. I personally have never partaken in Halloween festivities and I believe the experience will be fascinating."

It took him a moment to realize they were staring at him with horror and Jim with a long suffering gaze.

Spock wondered what he'd said wrong now.

"No Halloween ever?" Suri asked quietly.

"No candy?" Joanna gasped.

Spock swallowed and tried to find some way of salvaging his mistake without lying directly to the Pups and he settled for giving a truthful, pitiful and complete silent nod.

The group of younglings gasped dramatically and muttered to themselves rapidly, casting pitying glances towards Spock.

The hybrid suppressed a suffering sigh and looked at Jim, pleading for some kind of rescue.

The blonde, a small spark of amusement in his clouded gaze shook his head.

The hybrid was on his own.

He swallowed and prepared for a very long morning to midday.

Casper's voice rang out and the Pups scattered like started quail, rushing out of sight, still muttering to each other, still glancing at Spock, still plotting.

"I am in a significant amount of trouble, am I not?" Spock asked no one in particular.

Jim rumbled an affirmative answer as he turned Misu into his stall ad shut the door with a rattle and soft clang of metal meeting metal.

Spock mimicked him, giving Yellow Wolf a final pat of thanks before shutting the stall, locking it and falling into step with Jim, the blonde cast a glance back at Cody who was either ignoring them or to lost in her thoughts to bother acknowledging them.

Jim sighed to himself but said nothing so Spock to kept any comment to himself. They crossed the lawn with the dogs on their heels. Nemo A534, Wagi and Situpsa, squeezed past them giving small woofs and snuffles of thanks for letting them shove passed.

The two Starfleet officers slipped into the kitchen and the room fell silent of all chatter, most of it clearly had been the Pups muttering about their discovery and plans to their parent. The Brotherhood didn't look surprised but seemed resigned to be coconspirators.

McCoy had a rather disturbing grin on his face where he was looking at them from over his coffee.

Jim grimaced and snapped irritably, "Why don't you bunch of busybodies keep to yourselves!"

He stormed out of the kitchen, stomping loudly in the boots he didn't strip at the door.

The wake of shock and mildly hurt feelings he left was thick in the air.

"That was exceptionally uncharacteristic." Creek said, his head cocked and tone light and clearly interested in the shift of behavior.

"Uncharacteristic my ass." Cikala snarled, lips curled to bare his teeth, he shoved up from his seat and pushed up the sleeves of his shirt. "I'm gonna go whip him for that."

"Cikala, please refrain." Spock said, his voice sharp and commanding, one reserved for unruly cadets. It started the Brotherhood enough that they momentarily forgot Jim's outburst and looked towards the hybrid.

Spock drew a soft breath. "There was a loss of livestock in the herd this morning. We believe a wolf attack. Neither Jim nor Cody are operating at full capacity at the moment. It would be appreciated if you give them a few moments to collect themselves."

The shocked silence suddenly turned brooding.

With out a word Casper extracted himself from the Twin and slid out the door, letting it clattered closed behind him.

The rest of the Brotherhood glanced at one another in silence.

Spock fidgeted before stripping off his coat and boots hurriedly and strode out of the kitchen without meeting anyone's eyes. He started up the stairs in Jim's wake, stalling at the upper level bathroom door when he hear water running. Spock contemplated the idea of a shower himself, if only to warm up a little more quickly after the ride.

After a moment of contemplation he decided to simply change his clothes and stepped lightly down towards Jim's room before slipping inside. .

As he stripped down and pulled on fresh jeans, layered shirts and a hoodie he felt suddenly sluggish and fairly exhausted, his joints and bones suddenly aches, muscles burned, he could almost feel the adrenaline draining out him, leaving him slightly shaking and unsteady on his feet. Spock tugged the hoodie on with slightly shaking hands and gingerly settled himself onto the bed, easing back towards the wall and window, then down onto his side. He flinched when muscles protested and he curled up around his core, shutting his eyes and letting his body relax and drain.

He shut his eyes and let his mind drift aimlessly for some unmeasured amount of time.

"Spock? You alright?"

He dragged his eyes back open to the soft tones of Jim, he looked up to where the blonde was standing near the edge of the bed, dressed in fresh clothes and hair still sticking damp to his temples and forehead and sticking up in others.

Spock nodded mutely and Jim sighed softly before easing down to sit on the edge of the mattress.

"Took a lot out of you huh? More than what you thought?"

Spock shut his eyes and said softly, "Indeed."

Jim hummed and shifted around to get more comfortable, propping himself up on the pillows.

"'M guessing you have something to do with no one coming to kick my ass after I yelled in the kitchen."

Spock hummed in quiet agreement.

"Thanks."

"Of course, Jim."

They fell into quiet and both started to drift, dozing and then to actual sleep.  
They shared the space comfortably, sharing breath on their exhales and Sock shifting instinctively a little closer to Jim to ward off a lingering chill. They breathed quiet and even, occasionally dreaming, Jim mumbling under his breath once r twice, as they slept on, feeling secure in one another's company.

It was several hours before anyone dared to approach either one, in the Chicalato household contact with wolves apparently afforded some small privileges, including uninterrupted naps.

To a degree.

McCoy kicking the bed repeatedly to rouse them wasn't particularly pleasant.

"Get up. If I have to do this, ya'll have to do it too."

Jim and Spock scrubbed sleep from their eyes and looked up at the growling medical officer. Jim blinked at McCoy, letting his eyes focus before they widened suddenly and he choked out a short exclamation.

"Oh shit."

McCoy snarled but the effect was lost due to the large, lopsided pumpkin painted messily on nearly half his face. The medical officer sported a large tee shirt over a set of long sleeves, the shirt was a peculiar dark shade of green and had a printed image of large eyes, thick brown unibrow and a scowling mouth, pulled low over his jeans.

"Jesus Bones… you're Oscar the Grouch."

"Shut up!"

Jim smirked and pushed himself up, "This what they decided on?"

"Said there were too many of us to be the Avengers." McCoy muttered.

Jim motioned towards the two tangles of fabric tossed over McCoy's shoulder and said with a soft sigh. "Who am I?"

McCoy tugged the red one down and threw it into Jim's face.

"Elmo."

"Fuck."

McCoy threw the blue shirt at Spock.

"Grover."

Spock carefully turned the shirt out and looked at the face on it. "I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar."

"It's the Sesame Street monsters, Spock. It's a kid's show." Jim explained as he extracted himself from the bed and stripped of his hoodie and then tee shirt and replaced it with the Elmo face shirt, tugging the long stretch of fabric down over his hips and tugging his sleeves more securely through the shirt.

"Grover was the one that was odd and always making mistakes with the best intentions and he traveled the world and sometimes turned into a superhero named 'Super Grover'."

Spock looked silently down at his allotted role.

"I see."

"It was either that or Big Bird." McCoy muttered as he stalked out of the room.

"Guess we are wearing costumes." Jim hummed plucking at his shirt, looking down at the eyes and orange nose. "Could be worse."

"How so?" Spock asked and carefully pushed himself up to a sitting position.

"Once we were the X-Men and Cokata was the Professor. Talk about awkward family photographs."

Spock hummed quietly and studied the blue shirt before carefully tugging up his hoodie and gingerly pulled the Grover tee shirt over his head and torso, fitting it into place. The lighter, thinner fabric did little to help trap warmth against his body. He fiddle with his hoodie but knew that putting it on would negate the reasoning for putting on the printed tee.

Jim seemed to read his mind and crossed to his closet and rummaged around before coming up with a pair of fleece hoodies, these with zippers up the front. He handed the gray one over to Spock who took it with a grateful nod, fitted it over his shoulders and zipped the front up high enough that it was firmly in place but didn't close over the printed face.  
Jim gave him a thumbs up before mimicking Spock with the black zip up.  
"Lets roll." Jim rumbled and giving himself a pat marched towards the door like a man going to his death. Spock followed less dramatically in his wake.  
They climbed down the stairs and crossed into the kitchen, following a trail of noise that was foreign to the quiet landscape of Native Sky.  
The Brotherhood, their mates and offspring were all crowded into the kitchen. The four Chicalato brothers easily distinguished from the milling crowd by their bright, primary colored shirts sporting the cartoon faces of the Sesame Street monsters.

There was a thick smell of chocolate in the air that made Spock feel slightly light headed, the source of the scent rose from where Creek was standing, still and docile in the center of the room with a large orange woven basket, meant to look like a pumpkin. The basket was filled to the brim with small molded chocolates delicately wrapped in brightly colored foil.

Creek was methodically plucking from the cache, unwrapping them almost surgically then slipping them to his nieces and nephews, antagonizing the hyperactive behavior of the Pups with the addition of sugar. The paleontologist anthropoligst seemed fascinated by the effect of his contribution and watched with scientist's eyes as the Pups grew steadily more manic and his brothers and in-laws more frazzled, shooting him glares of mild hatred.  
"Creek." Jim sighed and the man looked up, cocking his head bird like to the side. He was wearing a bright orange version of the shirt with bright eyes, large nose and a half moon of black tufted hair printed on the front.

Creek was Ernie.  
"The Hell are you doing?" Jim asked.

"Experimenting." Creek hummed. "It's really quiet interesting." He popped one of the chocolates into his own mouth. "They were nearly silent only half an hour ago. I don't believe they have completely metabolized the chocolate yet but are reacting to the expected side effects in a manner like that of a placebo."  
Jim yanked the basket of candies from Creek, growling softly. "Gimme that before you start a riot."

Creek seemed unperturbed as Jim handed the basket over to Marie, Casper's wife, who puffed a sigh of relief and stored it away.

While Jim's attention was turned Spock watched Creek tug a chocolate from his bulging pocket, unwrap it and give it to Toweya.

Deciding against interfering with a fellow scientist's theoretical process Spock surveyed the rest of the room.

The Brotherhood's consorts clearly had decided against the costuming tradition and looked comfortable in street clothes while they fiddled and straightened the outfits of their children, little brightly colored costumes of characters or historical figures that Spock couldn't place specifically.  
"Hey, that's not fair. Cody's Slimey." Jim complained. "She shoulda been Abby Cadabby at least!"  
"Quit cryin' Hoksilato." Casper growled at him, the eldest Chicalato son was sporting a pale yellow shirt printed with the image of a bird like beak under two eyes and a ruffle of feathered hair.  
"Easy for you to say, you're friggin' Big Bird." The blonde grumbled and Casper rolled his eyes and set back to trying to keep the Twins complacent if not quiet.

Spock turned his attention to the side where McCoy and Cody seemed too had separated themselves into one corner of the kitchen. The medical officer seemed to be hovering, standing quiet and vigilant in the bedlam at the deaf rancher's flank while Cody was busy finishing and wrapping what looked like large loaves of bread and low dished pies. The petite woman sported a shirt matching the same green at McCoy's but the front was imaged with an orange and yellow cartoon worm with a small grin.

Cody's sea foam grey eyes still looked stormy and dark, shoulders tense and he normally tied up hair was loose and fell in a sheet of silver streaked cinnamon, shading her face. Clearly she was still deep in contemplation about the misfortune that morning.

"Oh sweet, pumpkin bread." Jim rumbled and swiftly cut his way through the group towards them and snatched a cut chunk of one of the loaves and stuffed it whole into his mouth before grabbing two more. McCoy eyed him with mild annoyance but said and did nothing when Cody herself didn't react to the intrusion.

Flushed with good fortune at his thievery Jim skidded back towards Spock, chewing noisily and offered a chunk of the bread to the hybrid.

Spock hesitated before carefully taking the offering, tearing off a piece and gingerly chewing it. The flavor was foreign and a bit musky with his spice but Spock didn't hesitate to get quickly into finishing off the rest of the chunk Jim had nicked for him.

The blonde smiled and chewed his own and muttered conspiratorially, "It'll taste even better if we can get some apple butter on it. Then is sweet and spicy."

"I look forward to the experience." Spock agreed and Jim grinned wolfishly, eyes flashing silver for a second before the cerulean became dominant again.  
The room seemed to fall quiet when Cody stood back and dusted her hands, unintentionally announcing that she had finished her work on the wrapped foods. She used a hand to sweep her hair back off her brown and neck and glanced around at her family. Catching sight of the expectant looks she rolled her eyes and signed exhaustedly.

_**Head out.**_

The scrambled rushed for the door was filled with small shrieks and whines as the Pups shoved and trampled each other to be first and their mothers and fathers acting as handlers tried to rein them back in.

At the back of the pack Creek strolled along casually, taking another chocolate from his over stuffed pocket, unwrapping and eating it himself.

It left the three Starfleet officers and Cody in the empty kitchen.

Cody sighed silently and buried his face in her hands, letting her hair fall over. The three men only stood back and waited patiently until Cody seemed to have collected herself. She straightened, shook her hair back and swiftly tied it in place with a rubber band that had been looped around her wrist. She stacked the breads and pies in a small wooden crate and handed them to Spock, the hybrid took the weight diligently and without complaint.

Cody ducked into the mudroom, gathering a small heap of jackets and shoved her Stetson on over her hair before stalking out the door, letting the screen close with a clatter.

Jim and McCoy let out identical, simultaneous sighs.

"She is not functioning at an optimum level, is she?" Spock asked quietly.

"No." Jim hummed. "No she's not."  
McCoy made a low unhappy noise and quickly followed Cody's trail out.

Jim looked grim but flicked his eyes towards Spock. "We're just gonna stay out of his way, okay?"

"Agreed." Spock said without hesitation. They moved together out the door, Jim pulling it closed behind him and they stepped down off the porch into the lawn.

Spock drew up for a second before he recollected himself and moved on again.

Most of the yard was occupied by Cody's low hay sledge hitched to a set of massive horses.

The sledge was equipped with low sides and a wide bed, set firmly on bulky wheel that could be changed out for runners in the snow. In a tradition centuries lost Cody used the sledge to haul hay in bales and rounds out to her cattle and horses in the leaner months when they stayed low in the mountain valley.

The sledge was hitched to a set of horses that dwarfed everyone and everything around them. They were thick muscled and thick boned, their heads as large as a man's torso, they towered on tree trunk legs that ended in brooms of thick long hair. Their shoulders peaked high into the air that was even above the top of Spock's head. Their hide were mottled pelts of dark grey, one of them sporting large white splashes across its gut, somewhat like the pattern of an overo paint.  
Spock knew the two horses in passing.

Crash and Crush, twin Scottish Clydesdales.  
Spock had never seen them except in the distance and to walk passed the two massive creatures, Spock felt small and was reminded suddenly of the strength and power horses as a species in general had.  
Crash and Crush snorted at him as he passed, actually pinning their ears and baring their teeth.

Spock, and surprisingly Jim, both shied from the aggressive display.

Spock looked questioningly at the blonde.

Jim made a slight face, "When Cody had to replace Bonnie and Bo, the Belgians she had before, 'cause they were getting old and she found them as yearlings in a slaughter sale. Yanno, dog food kinda thing. There really was something wrong with them or happened to 'em, I can't even guess cause they don't like me an awful lot. What the names are all about. Between 'em we had to rebuild half the stalls in the stable cause they'd kick 'em in. But they like Cody alright and do their job so they're not gonna go anywhere, just… don't get into reach or anything, alright?"

Spock nodded and gladly stayed close to Jim as they avoided the two Clydesdales lashed to the sledge with this straps of leather and links of metal.  
They stepped around towards the back of the sledge where the Brotherhood were tossing the Pups up into a layer of straw and ring of hay bales. Spock handed up the small crate of baked good to Marie to go along with the basket of Candy.  
"Get a little help from ya fellas?"

Jim and Spock and saw where Casper and Cokata were waiting next to them front wheel of the sledge. The middle Chicalato sat regal and serene in his wheelchair, his costume shirt was dark blue with boggled eyes and a wide smile.  
"Cookie Monster huh?" Jim rumbled as they crossed the distance.  
"At least I can sing the song in key. Give a guy without legs a boost, will ya?"  
"Cody's not driving?" Jim cocked his head to the side and raised a blond eyebrow.  
Cokata shook his head once, "Plus I said I'd do hay rides. At least this way I can help out some." "You help out plenty." Jim snorted indigently.  
Cokata shrugged and rolled his chair towards the seat, straying fearlessly close to the foul tempered Clydesdales. Jim hugged close to the middle Chicalato's side and jumped a little when Crash stomped a rear hoof warningly.

"You friggin kick me 'm gonna kick you back." Jim growled but he still shied away, nervously keeping himself between Cokata and the horse.  
Casper climbed up the other side of the sledge and squared himself holding out a hand towards Cokata. The paraplegic sat up in his wheelchair, kicked the breaks in, then reached and wrapped a hand tightly around Caspers and braced his other on the seat Jim stepped up and motioned for Spock to mimic him. Between the two of them and Cokata's own impressive upper body strength the middle Chicalato hauled himself up into the sledge's driver seat and settled himself, manually moving his legs this way and that until they were set correctly. From behind Suri carefully climbed over the back of the seat and settled himself next to his father, the hybrid youngling curling up and pressing himself tightly against Cokata's side.  
Jim tugged the wheelchair back into motion and shunted it along up a short ramp to the even porch surface and he shoved it up against the wall next to the door to wait their return. He jumped back down and trotted around before hauling himself up into the back of the sledge. Spock followed him up and settled next to him in a small heap of straw.  
The sledge jostled first as the rest of the Brotherhood climbed aboard then when Crash and Crush shifted and kicked in place, switching their tails and flicking their heels at they tugged at their bits and the long reins held tightly and surely in Cokata's hands, keeping the two Clydesdales at bay.  
A clatter of hooves made the population of the sledge look up.  
Cody and McCoy cantered out of the stable barn aboard Cody's buckskin stud Blackbird and McCoy's favored ride and one of Cody's favorites, the strawberry roan Appaloosa, Rosewood.  
They loped along shoulder to shoulder, they drew up as they passed the sledge and Clydesdales, dropping down to a matched walk.  
Crash and Crushed shoved at the bits and reins, pinning their ears at the resistance they met before Cokata gingerly loosened his grip and clucked them forwards.

Despite their bad tempers and manners Crash and Crush moved forwards quietly and in tandem, tugging docilely on their harnesses and bits, once they were rolling along at a steady forwards momentum they broke into smooth trots, pacing each other easily, lifting heads high and kicking out their hooves gracefully.  
Cody and McCoy seemed to orbit them moving at a steady trot or dropping down to a walk, falling back behind them before picking back up to a trot to amble a head.  
They followed Native Sky's long drive out onto the public dirt road, trailing along and rattling over the bridge that was suspended over Lost Horse Creek. They stepped out beyond onto the paved road that lead into Darby. They picked up the pace a bit as they crossed the boundary into Darby, weaving passed the smaller farms and ranches into the slight suburbanite and then the 'urban' circle of Darby. The main street of shops seemed to have been shut down, instead of beat up persona vehicles parked along the sides of the road and near the board walk their were horses and bicycles. The store front, trees, hitch posts and boardwalk decks were decorated heavily with square bales of straw clustered of pumpkins and gourds, long streamers in orange and black tangled with strings of white lights that at the moment were only a bare soft glow but would brighten as the night settled in.  
The main street was fairly crowded, adults dressed in simplistic and stylized costumes while children were nearly unrecognizable in their elaborate makeup and garb/ they rushed around fearlessly, clanging small buckets and shouting in excitement as they skidded from households to storefronts collecting treats and small toys from smiling adults.  
The semi-crowded streets were patrolled casually by the uniformed officers of the Darby Police Department on horse back. The departments mounted animals nickered at Blackbird, Rosewood, Crash and Crush and were answered calmly with wuffs and knickers of their own.  
Jim shoved himself up as the sledge started to slow and easily dropped down to the earth behind the wheels. Spock followed suit as did Creek, Cikala and of the Brotherhood consorts, tacking the basket of candy and crate of baked goods with them as they headed down the street in a gaggle chattering with each other as they headed up towards the courthouse lawn to add the food and offerings to a set of tables laden down with potluck dishes. They were quickly joined by other members of the Darby community, reaffirming old friendships. Casper and the Pups opted to stay aboard the sledge.  
"Hay ride!" Jim barked at the top of his lungs as he ambled in the wake of the sledge.  
Small packs of children stall in their hunt for treats and rush clamor at Jim's hips, begging to be lifted aboard. Other, older youths launched themselves onto the sledge. Casper happy to haul them up by the seat of their pants when they struggled. Jim started to lift the smaller younglings up into the hands of their older siblings or Casper. Once the pack of kids had been settled Cokata spurred Crash and Crush into a quick trot, carrying a good portion of Darby's youth with them on a gambol around the neighborhood.

Jim dusted his hands and tipped his head, urging Spock to follow him. They cross the street, catching site of Cody and McCoy dismounting and tying Blackbird and Rosewood on a hitch further down the road near the porch of the Darby outfitter's that so long ago Jim and Cody had pulled Spock through and gathered clothing and outer gear. The pair started a sow stroll through the festivities, McCoy pausing only to call a warning to Joanna to stay close to Casper and Cokata.  
A small tug on Spock's sleeve made him look towards Jim. The blonde had already let go of his clothes but was urging the hybrid to follow him.  
"Said we were gonna stay out of their way, remember?"  
"I do." Spock hummed quietly.  
"Trust me, I want to get in her face myself but it's just not a good idea. Maybe later tonight after she's tied one on." Jim advised and they walked shoulder and shoulder down the boardwalk, getting curious stares and muttered whispers in a wake behind them.  
"Tied what on?"  
Jim smirked gently. "I mean after she has a few drinks. Which by the way-"  
The blonde stopped in front of the open doors of one of Darby's bars, a quiet, dark place that had lined its doors with paper cut out bats. There were two large, low wooden barrels filled to the brim with slowly melting ice and different bottles and cans od sealed liquid. Jim dug into his pocket and pulled out a credit chip and handed it to man standing in the bar's doorway.  
The stranger smiled and swiped Jim's chip before handing it back. "Thanks Jim, have at it."  
"No, thank you Kevin." The blonde dug into the barrel and pulled out two sealed glass bottles and motioned with one to Spock. "Kevin this is Spock Grayson my First Officer, Spock this is Kevin Malloy."  
The young, red haired barkeep smiled gingerly and waved easily. "Nice to meet you."  
"A pleasure ." Spock dipped his head respectfully.  
"You can quit with the pleasantries. You are wearing a Grover the Monster shirt, boyo." Kevin grinned and motioned towards Spock's chest.  
The hybrid looked down at the blue shirt and plucked it once before looking back up at Kevin. "Indeed."  
Kevin grinned wider then glanced sideways at Jim and woof an amused bark. "Hey! Quit bogartin' the booze, blondie!"  
Jim didn't stop rummaging though he'd already stuffed a few bottles into his pockets and had a few tucked into the pit of his arm. "Hey, you got Woodchuck, you might as well kiss it all goodbye cause 'm not stopping until I get everyone out of here."  
"Christ! If I just give you a thirty case of it will you leave the rest and not come back tonight?"

Jim instantly started dumping the bottles back into the barrel. "Sold."  
Kevin grumbled and rolled his eyes but ducked back into the semicrowded bar and out of sight. Jim snatched a couple of the bottles off the top of the barrel, rooted in his pocket for a set of keys and used an odd shaped bit of metal to pry the caps off the bottles and held one out to Spock.  
"Here, they don't have a whole lot of alcohol in them, which wouldn't matter to you anyway, but they taste really good." Jim prompted.  
Spock hesitated before taking the bottle and chancing a sip.

As Jim had promised the liquid was quiet pleasing, a bit spiced and a bit sweet and tasting distinctly of apples with a faint touch of alcohol. Spock decided to at the very least finish this one and consider more if only to keep Jim from drinking the entire thirty case that Kevin had promised.

He had seen the blonde drink before, drink in settling of diplomatic relations and other times in quieter more friendly setting. And once he had seen Jim drink to forget and get away. It had been a harrowing experience, watching the blonde try to drown himself in liquor until he, reportedly from Jim's own mouth, 'didn't feel feelings anymore'. Spock hadn't enjoyed the helplessness and fear he had felt for his companion while for a single, very long night, he had watched Jim waste away to nearly nothing and what little there had been had clung physically to Spock simply because it could not carry it's own weight.

Spock never wanted to experience such a night again.

Now, as Kevin carried over a large sealed box and handed it off to a widely grinning Jim, Spock had a notion that these were Jim's intentions.

If her could prevent it, he would, and absolved to stay close to Jim's side without exception.

"Awesome, thanks Kev."

The barkeep waved him away and turned towards a young woman to take and swipe her credit chip.  
Jim lugged the case, holding the weight on his chest and statrted down the steps of the boardwalk and started to walk down the line of buildings towards an alley at the far end.

"C'mon and look busy so they won't stop you. If we can get 'round back and find a couple straw bales for ourselves we won't be the center of attention all night. Plus we can hid out and watch the movies."

"Movies?" Spock inquired and stepped closer to Jim's side, making a bit more room for others to pass around them.

"Yeah, there's this old reel projector in the town archives and a bunch of movies on millimeter eight film too so every year they bust it out and project movies on the back wall of the local museum. Stuff like from the Nineteen Forties and Fifties, black and white and everything. Some of its great stuff like _Nosfuratu _and _The Mummy_ series and anything where the monster if a iguana or tarantula crawling around in a model city." Jim hummed. "Its still a little too light out for them to start but we can still find a good spot."  
Spock nodded mutely, content to go along with Jim's plan for the evening and followed the blonde through the townspeople and passed the shops towards a larger, older building that sported a wood painted sign reading "Darby Town Museum". It was one of those tiny institutions often found in small towns full of proud locals and generational residents. The artifacts inside likely the worn relics of settlement days and remainders from brief lapses in war and peace and small named historical figures that had lived and died here, changing their community around them for the better as they did. Spock made a mental note to visit the museum at least once before they departed from Darby and Lost Horse Creek.  
Jim led them on, climbing up a slight slope of lush but manicured grass. Behind the building several rows of straw bales had been lined up in a seat formation. In the center of the front row two elderly women with snowy hair were carefully setting up an ancient projector. Next to them a slender, fine feature woman was watching their work closely while she held a small crate filled to brim with Super 8 reels.  
Jim by passed them with a dip of his head and a gentle 'evening ladies' then trotted a head towards the row of straw bales at the absolute back and on the highest point of the small hill.

He dropped his case of thirty with a soft clatter of glass and metal from within.  
Jim reached out and tugged another straw bale around until he was satisfied with the placement and then dumped himself on the grass next to the crate.  
Spock followed suit, albeit more delicately and crossed his legs under him. They leaned back against their straw bales and sighed quietly in tandem. Tugged out the bottle from his pocket and used the bottle opener on his keys to pop off the cap. He took a long draw from it and swallowed with a huff.  
Spock eyed him before speaking slowly. "I believe you should know that I intend to prevent you from become entirely intoxicated."  
Jim glanced at him and offered a slight smile, he hummed softly, "Thanks."  
Spock was a little surprised by the response but only nodded dutifully and settled his attention on the women and the projector.  
They sat in companionable silence for a long while, distracted only by nursing their drinks and the soft murmuring of the two women to the younger girl.  
Jim's PDP buzzed softly in his pocket and the blonde dug into his jeans and extracted it, flipping the screen to life, after a moment he texted a message back to whomever had contacted him and sighed softly.

"What is it?" Spock prompted gently.

"They wanted to know where we where cause people are asking for us." Jim muttered.  
"I expect from your behavior that there is more to that statement."  
"I told 'em where we were. We're gonna get mobbed."

Spock nodded his head slightly and offered quiet reassurance. "Then as we have in the past, we shall stand together against their assault."

Jim smiled wanly at him. "Worked with bloodthirsty reporters. Lets try it with small town gossips."

Jim held out his hand. Spock looked at it for a moment and knew Jim expected him to reach passed and grip his wrist as was the custom of the Chicalatos.

Spock hesitated then reached and settled his hand into Jim's, locking their palms flushed together. A charge crackled across their skin and hummed in their bones, a warm low vibration.

Jim looked startled, staring at Spock wide eyed even as the hybrid gently extracted his hand from Jim's grip, leaving their skin prickling in the wake of the hold.

Spock glanced away, trying to force the slight flushing of his ear tips away. His eyes traveled up and he noticed a small gaggle of women starting their way up the slope towards them, their eyes fixed on Jim and Spock even though their heads were bent to each other as they chattered lowly.

"It seems our first trial has already arrived, Jim." Spock said softly.

The blonde seemed to snap out of it and glance around, he cursed softly before plastering a thin and falsely charming smile as he shoved himself up off the floor to sit on the straw bale, evening the distance between himself and the perceived opposition. Spock followed his example and seated himself on the bale, sitting up straight, folding his hands in his lap and lifting his chin regally.

Jim flashed him a genuine, reassuring smile for a split second before falling back into their façade. Greeting the women with a slight wave and calling one of them by name. They primly took seats around the two young men, plucking their skirts and folding their neat pink hands in their laps and began the most polite and thorough interrogation of Spock's life.

It was one of many that night.

As the hours and knowledge of Spock and Jim's location passed they were confronted multiple times. Sometimes by singular, more friendly people that Jim seemed to know fairly well, to small groups of what Jim softly referred to a 'hens' that were actually just women ranging from fairly young teenagers to elder ladies.

They endured questions and accusations, assumptions and debunking, forward flirting and down right hostility before the visitors seemed to taper off. The two Starfleet officers seemed to have provided enough information to sate the community hungry for gossip. When they were left alone for over half an hour Jim slumped down to the earth and leaned against the straw bale.

Spock stayed perched atop his bale and looked down at Jim.  
The blonde huffed. "God knows what they're gonna start sayin' about us."

Spock hummed softly and looked around the now darkening evening, there were a few people sitting on straw bales waiting for the elder women to start on the ancient movie reels.

A familiar shape was climbing towards them with the slender frame of a girl on his heels.

After a moment in the dimming light they were able to make out McCoy and Joanna climbing up towards them, the former carrying a platter full of food with him. He grunted softly as he seated himself on the bale next to Spock and Joanna tumbled down next to Jim. The blonde grinned and hugged the younger girl into his side.

"Having fun?" Jim hummed.

"So much fun!." Joanna grinned and tipped her small bucket towards Jim, showing off a fairly large collection of wrapped sweets and small toys. Jim gave a small squawk and made a pathetic pouting face, asking pitifully. "Can I have some?"

Joanna huffed.

"Please?" Jim pleaded. After a moment she tipped her bucket towards Jim and the blonde gingerly started to pick through the collection, picking out a couple of treats and a small toy that Jim instantly set about playing with.

Spock turned his attention to McCoy when the older man held out offering napkin wrapped pumpkin bread that looked like it was cut from one of Cody's loaves.

Spock accepted the offering with a slight nod and using the napkin as a barrier between his hand and the food his nipped off a bite gingerly, chewing and swallowing. He spoke quietly to the medical officer, trying not to interrupt Jim and Joanna, who had extracted every toy from her collection and had them strewn on the grass with them, setting about putting the clock work into motion on all of them at once.

"I was under the assumption that you intended to spend the evening of festivities at Cody's side." The hybrid hummed softly.

McCoy gave a disgruntled huff. "She yelled at me 'n took off."

Spock looked sidelong at McCoy where he was picking ruthlessly at a sloppily made brisket sandwich. Jim turned his head slightly, indicating that he was listening.

"I do not believe her outburst was directed at you specifically, Doctor. Her mood has been uncharacteristic since very early this morning. I believe something is troubling her."

McCoy hummed but said nothing more, fiddling with his food and not quiet eating it. Jim tilted his attention back down at Joanna and the assorted toys on the grass around him.

They were quiet for a long time, watching the small slop of straw bales start to fill up and waiting for the darkness to really set in for the movie reels to be truly effective.

Jim's PDP chirped loudly and Jim dug into his pocket to retrieve it, silencing it before it drew too much attention, he flipped open the message and read it. He went rigidly still.

"Oh no." He rasped.

"Jim? What-"

A whistle that rose like a wailing siren cut through the air and made every soul in earshot of it go still. The sound was bone chilling and horrifically familiar.

Like a shot Jim was up and gone, leaping over the straw bales and out of sight in a second.

Startled Joanna grabbed a hold of her father's leg. "Papa?"

"S'okay baby." McCoy assured but he was tense and his voice shivered a little. "Get yer stuff together, alright. Quick now."

Spock glanced at McCoy, the medical officer jerked his head and sent the hybrid rushing after Jim, leaving the small crowd in his wake. He loped out onto the street and looked up and down the boardwalk. He caught a flash of unmistakable blonde hair in the middle of a group midway down the street. They were clustered together with a number of horses tacked and ready to ride, there were a couple of four wheelers and jeeps. Most of the people in the group were dressed in the familiar uniforms of the Darby police force.

Jim, Cody, Casper and Cikala were in the middle of the group of officers.

Spock broke into a quick jog, as he grew closer he saw there were several lit camping lanterns perched on the hood of a large pick up truck emblazoned with the Darby PD logo. A few of them were pouring over a set of antique, paper printed maps.

Others were loading ammunition into ancient projectile rifles, shotguns and pistols, holstering the long guns into carriers strapped to saddles.

Spock glanced at a movement to hi side as he closed the distance and noticed a couple sitting on a straw bales outside of the bar, Kevin Malloy was talking gently to the tearstained woman, offering her a steaming cup of what Spock supposed was a coffee. One of the Darby officers was growling softly with the male.

Spock stepped up to Jim's side, noticing the hard edge to his jaw and his eyes were stormed over harshly, flowing steel clouds had taken over where there was normally cerulean and silver.

"Jim." Spock asked, gently tugging on the blonde's sleeve, trying to pull him away as he whispered to him.

Casper was rapidly signing whatever the Chief of Darby police was saying to Cody and translating what she responded with. Spock was only able to catch a few signs, something about 'trails' and 'bears' and 'dark'.  
Jim glanced at Spock and his hardened visage softened some and he side stepped with Spock as the hybrid pulled him away, Cody looked after them, for the first time in his memory fixing Spock with a disapproving glare but she did not summon them back.

McCoy, tugging Joanna by her hand, joined them. The girl looked anxious and was clinging to her father in confusion. "Papa, what's happenin'? Why was that lady cryin'?"

"Hush for a second baby." McCoy soothed, flicking his attention towards he momentarily. "Jim?"

"Are Cody and the Brotherhood in some form of trouble with the law?" Spock asked lowly.

"No. Nothing like that." Jim sighed and said lowly. He licked his lips and set hands on his hips. "Mollie Reiter's gone missing. She's five and she wandered. It happens sometimes but no one's seen her and it's getting dark."

McCoy's face was grim and hard and Spock closed his eyes momentarily.

The hybrid breathed out softly. "What can be done?"

Jim grumbled. "Four wheelers can't get up out of the valley higher than the boulder line. A bunch of us are going to climb up in saddle and work our way back down. Everyone else is gonna start door to door and a head count, see if she didn't just end up going home with someone by accident."

"And I-"

"You're gonna stay here, with Bones and Cokata and the Pups. We don't need anyone else wandering." Jim made the statement a very clear and inarguable command. Spock instantly swallowed any protest and glanced across the street to where Cokata, still on his perch on the hay sledge was hugging Suri tightly to his side and murmuring to the youngling assuringly.

"Jim-"

"Got it Bones?" The blonde growled warningly.

McCoy made a face but didn't get an argument in.  
"Jim!"

Cikala's harsh bark made the blonde turn instantly and jog back to the group, Cikala jerked his hand towards Rosewood. The blonde swiftly mounted the mare and tugged her around a little more roughly than necessary; she snorted and stamped at the treatment but did nothing else. Jim reached and took a bulky walkie-talkie and a lantern from one of the officers, checking the channel and frequency quickly.

Cody vaulted up onto Blackbird, the deaf rancher smoothly took a Winchester rifle from one of the uniformed officers and slid it into place in the stock scabbard strapped to her saddle. Cikala hauled himself up onto a bay gelding that belonged to one of the Darby officers, taking up a rifle himself. Spock, McCoy and Joanna quickly stepped out of the way as the trio, horses snorting and stamping, broke into gallops and rushed down the street, charging around the corner and disappearing from sight.

Over the next ten minuets the rest of the officers and volunteers scattered, some climbing into the hills and towards the mountain on horse back or four wheelers, others went door to door. The air rung with shouts of "Mollie" and "Mollie Reiter" and any series of coaxing words that might draw the missing girl out.

Spock, McCoy and the rest of the Brotherhood stayed close to the apex of the search, the small circle of trucks and jeeps, a pool of lantern light of a few officers, the Chief and the frightened parents; listening secondhand to the radio for reports coming in from on the mountain. They poured over maps, marking off different places in the city limits and the surrounding wilderness.

A first hour crawled by.

Then a second.

Occasionally Spock perked when he recognized the sound of Jim's voice coming from the radios.

"Cahapi." Spock turned at the soft tone of Cokata's voice.

The paraplegic motioned him over and Spock closed the distance, standing next to the driver seat of the sledge. Crash stamped a rear hoof at him but Spock only moved back a bit more, giving the Clydesdale a more respectful birth.

Spock looked up to Cokata, noting Suri slumped asleep against his sire's side.

"Listen Cahapi. Think it'd be best if me, Capser and Creek took everyone back. Ya and Caniwahu stay behind and wait for Sis and the boys to come back. Once we get everyone settled if ya still need us me 'n Creek'll be back in no time."

Spock dipped his head in agreement and stepped back as Cokata nudged Suri awake and lifted the double set of reins into his hands. Casper was doing a quick check to make sure everyone was there and seated. Spock tilted his head to the side and saw McCoy handing off a sleepy Joanna to Creek, the other scientist tucking her protectively into his lap.

"Rest assured, doctor, I will ensure her safety."

"I trust ya Creek." McCoy responded and stepped back from the sledge as Cokata brought it into motion, expertly coaxing the two dapple gray Clydesdales around and set them off at a trot.

Spock and McCoy stood back, watching their departure before McCoy motioned Spock to follow him. He stepped across the street towards the makeshift command center and approached the Chief of Darby police carefully.

"Chief." McCoy said quietly, drawing the attention of the man. The Chief of Darby police was fit and trim despite the fact that he looked a decade McCoy's senior, his cropped hair was silver white and his eyes a dark green. He turned his attention from one of the younger officers in his command to McCoy.  
"Chief Hansboro I'm Leonard McCoy and this is Spock Grayson. We work for Jim Kirk on board the _Enterprise_."

Hansboro cocked his head to the side, "Couple of Jimmy's boy, huh? Well what can I do for ya?"

"'S a matter of what we can do for ya, Chief. 'M a doctor and Spock here's a fairly good strategist. If ya have need of us we'd be happy to do anything we could." McCoy dipped his head as he ended his offer.

Hansboro observed them before offering a wane smile and reaching across the distance and shaking McCoy's hand once firmly. "I'll keep ya in mind. But for now we're covered, if somethin' turns up I'll put ya both to work."

"What will occur in the progression of the search, Chief Hansboro?" Spock ask quietly.

"Well, we got back from the door to do, couple of kids that new Mollie said they saw her wanderin' round in a wildflower bed towards the tree line. Thought nothin' of it, yanno kids, get to excited and scatterbrained. At least we have a notion that she's probably in the trees somewhere." Hansboro sighed quietly. "Problem is the dark. We'll keep lookin till mornin' and if we don't find her before sun up we'll give Air Life a call to come in for an aerial."

"Aerial?" McCoy asked.

"Chopper. Give it a sweep from over head. And we called a head to the other departments along this route to warn 'em to keep an eye out for Mollie, just incase some bastard actually took her. A K-9 said he'd brin' down his Bloodhound as soon as possible. He's an hour or two out. Bloodhounds aren't commonplace anymore. 'S a shame." Hansboro responded. The Chief sighed tiredly. "S' the best we can do right now."

McCoy and Spock nodded dumbly.

"Chief, if there's a suggestion I can make?" McCoy asked quietly.

"Fire."

"Might want to consider sendin' the parents home. They're exhausted, broke down. And if… yanno… might be best if they're removed from it." McCoy encouraged gently.

Hansboro sighed loudly but nodded. "Yer right Doc. Chester. Ya and Mark take the Reiter's home and sit with 'em, do what ya can for 'em and keep yer radios turned low. Alright?"

"Yessir." An officer dipped his head and motioned another to follow and they crossed the distance to the Reiter parents, talked to them softly and were able to coa them into a jeep and drive them to their home to continue their vigil.

McCoy seemed a little more relaxed now, either because the parents had been removed from the situation or because he'd proven himself slightly useful in the emergency. Whichever, it had done the medical officer good.

Though as time crawled by Hansboro did not call for them as he recalled and sent officers and volunteers back out. The Bloodhound arrive and hour and a half later and was instantly set to work on a trail with its handler and three other officers, they swiftly disappeared into the dark and many waited hopefully for the braying cry of the dog.

The radio returns became fewer and father in between and Jim's voice didn't come back at all.

Spock and McCoy found themselves sitting dully on the strawbales that the Reiter parents had been perched on. They leaned back against the outer wall of the bar. Kevin Malloy had kept the establishment open and running, though the alcohol had been replaced with coffee and warmed cider.

"Here fellas," Kevin hummed softly and handed each of them a steaming mug filled to the brim with the cider. "Keep ya goin'."

Spock and McCoy accepted the mugs with soft, grateful hums.

"Ya can head on home if ya had a notion." The barkeep said softly. "No use waitin' up all night."

"We will await the return of out companions." Spock said resolutely.

Kevin hummed softly and sighed.

"They'll find her, could be a while but-"

Every soul in the area went perfectly still.

From down on the mountain came the unmistakable echo of a gunshot.

The silence that followed was blood chilling.

Then two more shots in rapid succession. The echo rang against the stone and trees.

Spock looked towards McCoy and they both quietly set down their mugs, with Kevin on their heels they quickly stepped towards Hansboro and his tight circle of now tense officers.

Hansboro was speaking rapidly into his walkie-talking, calling to each group, each on responding that they're heard the shots, no they weren't the ones to fire them, yes they were fine, no no sign of Mollie.

Hansboro moved through the short list and came to the search party designated Red Three.

Jim, Cody and Cikala.

"Red Three, shots fired, respond, over." Hansboro ordered.

The walkie-talkie crackled and hummed in silence. Spock and McCoy tensed.

"Red Three, shots fired, respond, over." The Chief ordered more insistently.

Static and air silence.

Hansboro lifted the radio a third time, intending to order a response when Jim's voice crackled over the frequency.

Spock tensed.

Jim's voice was flat, dead, completely without emotion.

"_Red Three. That was us."_

Hansboro sighed. "Everythin' alright?"

"_No."_ Jim responded over the line. _"We got recovery. DOA. We're coming back down."_  
The radio crackled and then went dead.

Hansboro expelled a rush of air and leaned heavily against the hood of the truck before suddenly slamming his fist down onto the metal. There was a haze of shock and silence among the collected volunteers and officers.

Hansboro sighed softly and said lowly to a Lieutenant officer as his shoulder. "Pack it up and send everyone that isn't necessary home. Go wake up the Chaplan and take him over to the Reiters as soon as they're back down off the slope."

"Yessir." The Lieutenant replied softly and stepped away, moving to put the Hansboro's orders into action. The Chief was leaning heavily against the truck, buried his face in his hands and muttering into his palms.

"Guys."

McCoy and Spock jerked as they were snapped out of their trance and turned to look towards Kevin.

"C'mon, get outta the way. Chief'll want ya ta stick round, Doc, but just get outta the way for now." Kevin urged them to step backwards onto the boardwalk. The ushered them down towards the straw bales in front of the bar. Kevin disappeared into the bar and returned with a large bottle of whiskey tucked under his arm and a stack of plastic glasses, he paused and poured into the first two cups and passed them to McCoy and Spock before he rushed to distribute the whiskey among the officers and volunteers.

McCoy downed his whiskey in a single draw and when he eyes Spock's the hybrid gladly turned it over to him.

They sat in silence for a long moment, knowing there wasn't anything to be said as they waited for the return of Cody, Jim and Cikala, from the mountain.

Over the next hour the search parties returned from their remote locations, trickling in on weary horses where they checked in. turned over firearms, accepted their small plastic cups of whiskey then dispersed with their heads bowed.

McCoy and Spock watched with a detached kind of air, unable to completely connect with the tragedy just yet.

They had nothing to say to anyone or each other as they went on waiting.

McCoy dully pulled out his PDP and texted a message to Creek. After a moment there were was a soft chirp of reply.

Spock turned his attention towards the doctor.

"I told Creek to bring Toweya down." McCoy muttered.

Spock nodded mutely. "Cikala will appreciate it."

It wasn't long before the familiar rumble of Cody's Big Horn pick up as it ground up the street towards them. It caught the attention of the officers and Chief but no one challenged it when the truck ground to a halt across the street.

Creek dropped down from the driver's seat and stood back. Toweya slid down after him from across the passenger seat, her hair was mussed and her change of clothes, a simple jeans and tee shirt, were rumpled. Creek shut the door and Toweya scrubbed her eyes and stumbled a little. Creek easily lifted her up into his arms and carried hr across the way towards McCoy and Spock, he settled down next to them with a huff and Toweya perched in his lap.

"They have recovered the missing girl?" Creek asked quietly.

"Yeah… unfortunately." McCoy muttered.

"I see. Creek hummed and fell silent. Toweya blinked blearily and seemed to doze off. Clearly she was exhausted.

They fell back into silence, only interrupted by the soft murmur of the remaining offers, huff of tired horses and Toweya's soft snoring.

It was another forty five minuets before the silences in the darkness was broke by the heavy rhythmic thud of hooves hitting the earth.

They looked up as the darkness broke and three figures on horseback made slow way towards them. There was no mistaking the large framed man on a borrowed bay horse in the lead. Cikala's face was emotionless, tired eyes dull and lifeless. He moved the bay along with one hand, the other supporting a small shape bundled shape against his chest. Spock recognized Jim's dark pull over acting as a shroud around the body.

The wet smears on the fabric of the pull over were unmistakable.

Cikala didn't look towards them as he road passed. McCoy carefully extracted himself from between Creek and Spock, stepping down off the boardwalk and jogged over to walk alongside Cikala and the bay. He reached out and carefully patted Cikala's knee.

Spock and Creek turned their attention towards the two riders.

Fear seized them both.

For the first time in Spock's memory he saw Creek react with a small frenzy of emotion. He got to his feet in a rush, jostling Toweya as he did. Spock passed a more critical eye over the pair and quickly grabbed Creek's arm, pulling him back.

"Be calm, Creek." He urged the Chicalato, "Though it does not seem like it they are unharmed."

Creek was shivering slightly and watching with nervous wide eyes but he retreated a bit to Spock's side, nodding jerkily.

Jim and Cody bore the same deadened eyes and emotionless mask as Cikala did, the shock of the appearance was they were covered in blood.

Smears of gore stained their clothes and clung to Cody's long hair. Their arms and hands looked as if they had been dipped in blood, the edges starting to dry out to a dark rusty brown.

Blackbird and Rosewood sported long ropes of blood slung across their coats, though they too looked unharmed.

The reason for the gore was explained as Cody and Jim road passed.

Draped across the backs of their horses were the gutted corpses of wolves, two on Blackbird's rump and one on Rosewood.

The dead canine's jaws were flung open and dribbling the last of their blood, their sliced open body cavities gaped grotesquely.

The wolves were huge, each massive carcass easily weight a hundred and fifty pounds lacking their internal organs.

Their pelts were smeared with blood and they flopped lifelessly across the backs of the horses.

Blackbird swung his head towards Spock, the large sable eyes of the buckskin meeting the hybrid's. The horse looked at him for a long time before swinging his head back around with a snort continued at a steady walk towards Chief Hansboro.

"It has been a very bad night indeed, Mr. Spock." Creek murmured, he bundled Toweya closer to himself and set off across the street towards the Big Horn, intending to wait by the truck for their return.

Spock stepped down from the boardwalk and moved to hover off to the side. He spied Cikala and McCoy and another two officers clustered around the back of one of the jeeps. McCoy was scrubbing his hands clean as he and Cikala both reported softly to the officer dictating their words. It was clear McCoy had finished his official examination and had declared the death.

Cikala was also scrubbing his hands and arms and stripping of his jacket and shirt, dropping them into a pile on a square of plastic on the earth.

Spock narrowed his eyes and glanced around towards Jim and Cody.

The officers and Chief Hansboro were hanging back at a distances as Jim and Cody dragged down the three dead wolves from off the backs of their horses. They dragged and dumped the carcasses on another tarp just as it was shaken out across the earth.

Just as quickly Jim and Cody stripped off their shirted and gloves, dropping them onto the clothing pile then stood over the dead wolves, accepting a large bottle of some kind of potent chemical cleanser, they scrubbed their arms, neck, faces, any place of exposed skin. Cody drenched her hair with chemicals.

Spock edged forwards and Jim seemed to sense his approach, the blonde, eyes glassy and dead sent him a warning look and shook his head.

Spock stepped back again.

Jim and Cody stripped off their saddles and while Jim splashed and scrubbed the chemicals into Rosewood and Blackbird's fur Cody wiped down the tack.

After once the bottle of chemicals was empty the two horses and riders and their tack ambled back up the street towards Spock, they stopped at a spigot on a corner next to the boardwalk. One of the officers set about pumping the spigot, water rushed forwards and Jim and Cody awkwardly rinsed off themselves, the tack and horses.

Other officers were quickly wrapping up the discarded clothes and dead wolves up in the tarps and tying them shut. They kept their hand wrapped up in plastic gloves and faces turned away.

Everyone looked fairly anxious.

Spock edged closer to Jim as Cody lead the two horses to were Cikala was no cradling a sleepy Toweya in his arms and Creek leaning back against the her pick up.

The blonde was speaking quietly to Hansboro, the Chief typing rapidly on his PDP as he recorded what Jim was saying.

When he wasn't rejected Spock boldly closed the distance and stood close to Jim's side.

The blonde didn't acknowledge him and continued speaking quietly to Hansboro.

" -we found 'em just… you know… eating…" Jim swallowed grimly but kept up his low tone.

"Ya figure they killed her, s' not normal with wolves…" Hansboro murmured.

"I know they did. They came at us and we were on horses." Jim crossed his arms tightly over his chest. " S' why we figure they're probably rabid. They wouldn't do it otherwise."

Hansboro glanced over to where his officers were carefully loading up the potentially diseased carcasses and clothes into the back of one of the patrol trucks.

"Ya want to go to the hospital?" The Chief asked.

Jim shook his head, "Bones can take care of us. Make sure your bay gets vaccinated and all."

Hansboro nodded grimly. "We'll get everything tested Jimmy, we'll keep you and Cody on call for everything. Damndest thing. Rabies."

Jim hummed. "Just so you know Cody lost a heifer this morning to wolves too. Don't know if they were the same ones but…"

"Ya never know." Hansboro finished.

"Right."

"Thanks again Jimmy. Ya go on and see if ya can try and get some kinda sleep. Ya and yer brother's come down tomorrow and we'll clean up all the reports and everythin', alright?"

Jim nodded mutely and Hansboro patted his shoulder once before nudging him in the direction of Cody's truck, where the rest of the Chicalatos the horses and McCoy were standing together speaking softly.

Spock walked close to Jim's side, their elbows and shoulder's nearly brushing.

The blonde's head was dipped towards his chest, eyes steel gray and swirling anxiously.

"Rabies?" Spock asked quietly.

"They… the wolves, they were foaming at the mouth and moving kinda jerky. 'S what rabies does eating your brain and stuff. We figured maybe they'd just found her already, were just taking advantage, but then, seeing 'em act like that and they came at us even though we were on horses.* Jim shook his head and hugged himself a little tighter. There was a haunted look in his eyes. "Wolves don't go after people unless there's something wrong with them, something like that. I mean I've had lots of run ins before, gotten snapped at but never attacked like that."

Spock tensed slightly, "You are undamaged, correct?"

"Huh? Yeah, no, 'm fine. I'll get a vac from Bones tonight." The blonde assured and gave Spock a waning smile.

"Are you alright?"

Jim gave another jerk of his head in the negative.

Spock puffed a silent breath through his nose but said nothing.

Cikala was murmuring to Creek as he clung tightly to the sleeping Toweya.

"Figure we'll just roll along slow, have the horses walk behind." Cikala murmured and Creek nodded. He still looked a bit pale, a bit shaken but had regained himself.

Spock cocked his head towards Jim but the blonde seemed to be without protest.

They stepped around to the back of the truck where Cody was stiffly tossing the tack into the bed. Blackbird and Rosewood were already loosely tied by their bridle reins to either side of the truck bed. McCoy was sitting carefully on the dropped tailgate, as close to Cody as he dared while he rubbed Rosewood's jaw gently.

"C'mon Spock." Jim urged and walked up to the side of the truck, he climbed onto the tire and swung into the bed. Spock hesitated then followed his example and settled down next to Jim in the truck bed.

After a moment Jim shifted over, closing the distance between them until their shoulders touched.

Spock felt the blonde shaking a little next to him.

In response the hybrid tipped his shoulder closer to Jim.

They felt the truck jerking slightly as Creek, Cikala and Toweya climbed into the cab. Cody settled herself on the tailgate next to McCoy and thumped her hand on the side of the bed.

The engine churned to life and the truck vibrated under them. Blackbird and Rosewood snorted as the truck ground forwards and started to turn.

The two horses huffed and started in an easy walk behind the truck.

As they worked their way away from the main strip of Darby and out onto the back roads on their way towards Native Sky, Creek urged the truck slightly faster, just enough to get a steady rhythm of a walk out of the two horses trailing behind.

Spock felt Jim slump into exhaustion next to him, leaning heavily on his shoulder. The hybrid looked down at the blonde and hope Jim would gain some benefit from the short rest on the ride back.

The hybrid tilted his attention away towards McCoy and Cody. The petite rancher was hunched and tightly wound, leaning heavily over her knees and the edge of the tailgate, her arms wrapped tight around her stomach.

McCoy was watching her closely. The older man suddenly shifted over a bit until he was touching the deaf rancher. She jumped and sent him a wearily look before casting her attention away.

McCoy hesitated then carefully looped an arm around Cody's small frame and tugged her closer to himself.

Sock cocked his head when Cody tensed and for a moment looked like she was gonna pull away before she sighed and slumped against McCoy, curling tightly into his side. After a few minuets she stopped shaking and had relaxed completely. She let out a puff of air that she seemed to had been holding onto since early that morning.

He offered the first tentative smile Spock had seen her make all day.

McCoy returned the twist of his lips, hesitated, then dipped his face down towards Cody and pressed a brief chaste kiss to her lips. He retreated just as quickly as he acted and with a faint coloring across his cheeks looked up and out on the road behind them.

Cody cocked her head down and licked her lips once before chewing at the corner of her lips.

Now it was McCoy that was tense and when he started to extract himself from Cody; the deaf rancher grabbed a hold and tightened her grip, pulling the medical officer back and curling up against his side again.

McCoy sighed and relaxed, going so far as to rest his chin on the top of her head.

"About damn time." Jim murmured softly and blearily next to him.

"Indeed." Spock agreed.

* * *

**A/N: There. Kiss. And y'all can't be mad cause I never said WHO was gonna kiss. Dirty? Yes, I know.**

**Also I like wolves. I really do, I find them very interesting. I chose them for the "adversary" in this chapter for dramatic purposes. Hence why I made the wolves at the end rapid, cause its true, very rarely would a wolf attack a person unless they were sick or injured. ****So don't so throwing me hate mail and flames saying I hate wolves cause I don't. **

**I likes 'em. They sound pretty.**

**Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed. A new chapter will be on its way soon, hopefully you'll be sated for a while on this monster of THIRTY PAGES!.**

**Ta.**

**Lakota Translation:**

**Cahapi : Sugar**

**Caniwahu - Sawbones**

**Vulcan Translation:**

**Ni'dori'ik nar-tor: I'm sorry/I ask your forgiveness. **


End file.
